Unfortunate Reminder
by IndigoElle
Summary: Damian has taken on the role of Robin and is just settling into it. However, he didn't just leave behind his mother when he chose to stay in Gotham. When someone from his past breaks into his life, Damian finds himself questioning all he has come to accept.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This idea came to me the other day and I decided to try it out. I am thinking about continuing this, and probably will. Let me know what you think! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything of DC Comics. This is for entertainment purposes only.**

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><p>"Remind me again," Robin muttered from his crouched position, "why Drake is conducting this mission?"<p>

The cool wind rustled his hair, blowing his cape behind his small but strong form. They had been perched on the ledge for almost forty five minutes, and though he had been taught patience, waiting this long for action was making him restless. All Robin could think of to give him something to do was share his aggravation, whether anyone listened to him or not. Beside the young boy, Nightwing shook his head slightly, taking the high tech binoculars from his eyes. "You're not even supposed to be in the field right now. When Batman finds out I'm going to have to take the blame."

An unsaid comment lingered in the air; _if he doesn't already know._ Which, considering that the mysterious Bat was the best detective in the entire world, was a very high possibility. Of course that wasn't stopping Robin—even more so the boy under the mask, Damian. "You have to do no such thing, Grayson. I_ deserve_ to be on this mission."

It was true that Damian had disobeyed orders. He was told, strictly, that he was not to go and scout out Black Mask and his newest shipment coming into Gotham. Despite the warning, and the threat of danger looming over the city, he had gone to investigate on Bruce's behalf. It just so happened that his father was occupied with the League and he'd taken the opportunity. Yes, the plan had turned into a catastrophic mess, but Damian had been _handling_ it when Batman dropped in to lend a hand.

After a lengthy lecture that involved a lot of "what were you thinking" and "you could have been killed" sort of talk, Batman told him that he was not allowed to patrol as Robin for a period of time, he was essentially grounded. The term was foreign to Damian; he considered himself benched. The worst part was that his father hadn't decided how long he was going to be stuck in the manor. Damian of course wasn't happy with this; even if he hadn't listened, he'd found out crucial information that could lead to a bust in the operation. So when Bruce was called to the Watchtower and put Nightwing in charge, Damian had chosen to ignore his punishment and follow Dick and Tim to stop the criminal.

Besides, they couldn't stop him if he went off without warning.

And that was how he ended up balancing on the ledge, eyes trained on the warehouse below. The trucks had arrived before they did, but had been left running. With no drivers in sight, and no people at all that they could see, Nightwing had ordered them to remain in their spots until some activity happened. The blue and black costumed man said, "You disobeyed orders, so you _should_ be in the cave."

"I was the one that notified everyone of the suspicious activity," Red Robin spoke up from the other side of Nightwing, though saying it simply as a fact and without arrogance. He gave Damian a sidelong glance. "Since then, and thanks to your tip, I developed the plan. So that's why I'm leading."

"If the plan is such a good one," Robin inquired with mock interest, "Then why haven't we seen anyone? Were your calculations even remotely correct?"

Red Robin's expression behind his mask was hard to decipher, but it was obviously displeased. "Black Mask's men are on a strict schedule. They should have been out here five minutes ago, completed loading seven minutes later, and be out on the roads one minute after that."

While he knew that Tim was right, because he had seen no flaw in the schedule when Red Robin had first figured it out, he still scoffed. "Tt. If so, they have failed miserably, or your planning is completely off."

"That's enough," Nightwing cut in, his voice less of authority and taking more of a tone as the eldest sibling disciplining them. "Something isn't right. These shipments are always done with a close eye on the clock."

Robin stood up, not even swaying; he had impeccable balance. "Shall we go investigate then?"

Nightwing went to reply, when the warehouse doors burst open. Black Mask's minions came running from the entryway, their faces twisted into angry and surprise. They stumbled out, ran for the trucks, fighting over one another to get in. Robin knit his eyebrows together. "I knew that his minions were mindless, but not this far gone."

"Let's go," Red Robin said, getting to his feet with Nightwing. The three birds each shot their grappling and descended together through the air. The rushing wind made Damian grin; he was finally getting some action that he had been waiting for. He counted the seconds as they reached the ground, Damian landing on the hood of the truck in front of the frantic men. Nightwing and Red Robin each stood at opposite ends, in sight of every member.

Black Mask's minions froze, their eyes widening. One spluttered out, "We didn't do nothi—"

Damian's fist connected with his face, and then he grabbed the man by his collar. "Stealing expensive metals in order to auction them off for twice the price? I'd say that's more than nothing, fool."

The men moved backwards, holding their hands up. It was absolutely strange, all three heroes had expected some sort of retaliation. Suspiciously, Nightwing and Red Robin moved forwards. They quickly opened the backs of the trucks; every single one was empty. Red Robin said, "Must not have had time to load them."

"No!" One of the minions shouted, "It-it just came out of nowhere! Striking us down one by one!"

"Your blabbering nonsense is painful to hear," Damian said, shoving the man he had in his grip and jumping down from the hood of the truck.

There was a crash from inside the warehouse, and more yelling. Gunshots rang out, and more screaming and cursing accompanied them. No other men, however, retreated out the open doors. Nightwing jerked his head towards the warehouse, "Leave them; we have to get inside."

Robin growled causing the men to inch back from him, "Lucky bastards."

The three ran for the doors, standing on either side. Nightwing peeked into the entryway, a frown forming on his face. He gave a nod to the other two, making a signal with his hands, and they ran in, jumping to the sides and crouching behind crates that were packed with the stolen metals, which were supposed to have been transported. Much to his annoyance, Red Robin was next to Damian, but he bit back annoyance and glanced up from behind their cover.

At first he saw nothing at all. The expansive room was lit only by three dim lights, the rest having been shot out by bullets, their shattered remains glittering on the floor. Then he made out the shapes of minions, either lying on the floor or standing in a cluster in the center of the room. They were armed with guns, their eyes flickering around dangerously; frenzied. One spoke up, "Damn, where did—?"

As if from out of nowhere, a small form leapt, appearing above then men like a shadow falling on them. The figure was dressed in all black, showing no skin, a hood up over its face. Its body twisted, feet slamming into the face of the closest man, and then pushing off of him like he was a wall, landing on the ground. The man fell back into a few others, the rest firing their guns at the figure. Damian couldn't help but raise up more to watch the scene as the figure darted, avoiding the bullets and coming straight at the men that were easily four times its size.

Even Nightwing and Red Robin rose as the small shadow fought, jumping and punching one man in the gut, leaping again and landing a hit to his face. It hit the ground, and Damian watched thoughtfully. The figure was so swift, and he could have sworn he recognized the moves from somewhere; if not the moves the entire style of fighting. Dismissing the feeling he drew his sword and ran forwards, not waiting for Nightwing to give an order. The older man said nothing, and Robin could see from his peripheral vision both the other heroes joining him.

He didn't intend to be fighting side by side with the figure, but suddenly they were working together with incredible synchrony. Damian knit his eyebrows; this small figure felt like a threat to him, if it knew just how he fought. He swung his sword, the figure used his back as a springboard and struck the man's jaw with its foot. Robin was sure he heard the cracking of bone. The figure moved on, he followed so that they were fighting back to back.

The minions were easy to take down, he found no trouble with them. At one point he moved backwards to avoid a hit, his foot sliding in something wet. Regaining his balance, he disarmed the man that came at him and struck him down with a slice to his leg, and then looked to the floor. A pool of blood was coming from a man that lay motionless on the ground. Damian glanced around, saw that most of the men that were lying down looked the same way. Knowing he had not killed anyone, and that both Nightwing and Red Robin wouldn't dare to do so, it left only the figure as the culprit.

Damian quickly darted around the men in order to find it, and saw the flash of a blade. The dense shadow stood over its victim, arm raised with a knife that was already slick with blood. Rushing forwards, Robin grabbed its wrist to keep it from striking the blow. The figure turned towards him, but he couldn't see its face under the hood. It felt as though they locked eyes, and then Damian let it go, and the figure moved away from the bleeding man.

"Robin." Nightwing's voice cut through the sudden quietness. Damian looked over and watched Dick disarm the last man and knock him out. Red Robin was coming over from the other side of the room. They both looked unharmed, and the small, sympathetic and hidden part of Damian felt relieved that no one was seriously hurt.

"The rest of them left," Red Robin reported, "Without their cargo."

"Mission accomplished," Robin replied, sheathing his sword.

Nightwing narrowed his masked eyes, "It didn't exactly go as expected."

Robin followed his gaze, as did Red Robin, to the small figure. It was only a couple inches shorter than himself, Damian realized. Not saying anything, the figure stood there, as if taking the three of them in for the first time. Then it reached up to the hood and pulled it back, letting itself be revealed. Damian refrained from sucking in a surprised breath, keeping his voice only partly astonished and the rest casual, "Ara?"

The girl didn't smile, her voice soft but assertive at the same time, if that was possible. "Hello, Damian."

Nightwing started, tensing, but Damian didn't reach for his sword. There was no uneasiness in the way that he stood. He said simply, "You've grown since I've seen you last."

"And you have become an even better warrior," she noted. Her eyes were a dark blue, almost navy, and her light brown hair fell just past her shoulders in slight waves.

"Hate to interrupt your reunion," Red Robin said, "but can we have an introduction?"

"I didn't expect you to know me, or care, Tim Drake." The young girl said and Damian smirked at the hero's shocked reaction. He would have laughed, though it didn't seem like an appropriate situation to do so.

Nightwing took a small step forward, though it was not threatening. "You know our names."

"Of course, Dick Grayson. There is no reason that I wouldn't." The ten year old, she looked about Damian's age, didn't bat an eye. She looked so controlled and with subtle confidence that it was hard to not believe her.

Damian smirked again and then gestured to her, "This is Arabelle Reign."

"Old friend, or only friend of yours?" Tim asked, almost distastefully.

Instead of sending a retort, Damian scoffed, "No you fool…"

"She's my fiancée."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Welcome back! Here's Chapter Two for you all. It was kind of intimidating trying to write from Bruce's perspective, but I did my best. Hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think :)**

**Disclaimer: As always I do not own DC Comics. This is for entertainment purposes.**

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><p>As it turned out, Bruce did indeed know that Damian hadn't obeyed his orders. He'd returned from the Watchtower sooner than expected, the meeting with the Justice League only grinding on his nerves. It was nothing serious; at least his definition of serious. His time could have been better spent patrolling Gotham that night; they all knew that he hated to be gone from the city for long. The only ever so slight ease he felt was that he'd been able to have Dick and Tim take care of Black Mask, knowing that they'd be able to handle the situation.<p>

The Batcave was empty when he entered, save for Alfred. The Dark Knight looked to the butler and asked simply, "Damian?"

"Gone, sir. I'm afraid he went off without a word to anyone. Master Dick and Master Timothy followed after him." Alfred had an exasperated expression on his face. Bruce had no doubt in his mind that he'd seen it coming, and though Bruce had hoped for otherwise, he too had expected it.

Cursing under his breath, Bruce went over to the computer, not bothering to sit down. The retreating footsteps of Alfred echoed behind him; the butler always knew when he needed space. His jaw was clenched tightly; his nerves frying further. Why couldn't Damian just listen to him for once? He'd made it clear to his son that he wasn't supposed to go on a mission alone. There were too many risks that Bruce wasn't willing to take. What if he got hurt? What if he ended up like—

"Hey." Dick's voice came through loudly in the quietness of the cave, causing Bruce to raise his head. He'd had been meaning to call him, but hadn't even realized that he'd done so. He was so lost in his thoughts that the automatic action came without thinking.

"What happened?" The question didn't sound like a request; it was a demand for answers.

"Mission success," Dick said, sounding falsely happy. "Black Mask's minions were taken care of. The cops have confiscated the materials."

While that was good to hear, he was not convinced on everything. As cheery as Dick could be, it never sounded like this when he was being genuine. Bruce narrowed his eyes. "Where's Damian?"

"Right here. We're…yeah, we're on our way back to the cave." There it was the faltering of Dick's voice. Bruce had been listening for it; Dick always had that sort of wavering when he was keeping something from him.

"Talk. Now."

There was a moment of silence and Bruce could almost feel his heart drop out of his chest. He was completely convinced for half a second that something horrible had happened to Damian or Tim. Tim wasn't mentioned; it had to be Tim then didn't it? The silence felt like it was going to last forever, and right as Bruce was about to demand that Dick tell him what was going on he heard the young man sigh and say, "Everyone is okay. I just really hope that you like surprises."

"You know that I don't," Bruce replied, and then added, "Get home now."

He ended the call, and then angrily sat down in the chair. Pressing his hands together in a steeple, he stayed there staring at the computer. While he had planned to go out on patrol the rest of the night, that whole idea was out the window. The Dark Knight should have placed a bet on things not going as intended. The longer he waited for his sons to return home, the more frustrated he became. Every minute his eyes would glance to the clock, and he would become even more displeased when they didn't arrive right that second. Bruce remained in his seat unmoving, not bothering to remove his cowl or change out of his costume, thinking over every part of the lecture he was going to give to his youngest.

When they entered, Bruce heard them clearly, but didn't turn around immediately. For a minute he held his breath, collecting his thoughts. Everything that he wanted to say, the punishment he was about to give Damian; once he was sure of it he stood up and turned around. His eyes swept over Nightwing, then Tim, and finally Damian. Each looked unharmed despite the few scratches that they'd acquired, yet both of the older boys stood looking hesitant. All except for Damian, who stood there looking as calm as ever, not holding an ounce of regret in his features. Bruce opened his mouth to speak, and glanced beside his son as a shadowed form moved beside him.

Whatever he was about to say next disappeared once his eyes landed on the girl.

"Bruce Wayne," she said by ways of introduction, as if they were meeting in his office instead of his secret lair that not many had ever set foot in.

He couldn't help but be taken aback, giving the girl a hard look behind his cowl. She was a child; he deduced that she had to be at least Damian's age. Though her expression was blank, there was a sort of curiosity in her eyes, but they stayed on him and didn't break the gaze. Bruce finally said, "I'd ask what you're doing here, but someone else should offer an explanation."

"Father," Damian spoke up, which admittedly surprised the Bat. He could understand Dick bringing a child here for safety, or Tim for some hunch that he had—which would most likely be proven correct after an investigation. His youngest son, however, was not the likely candidate. "This is Re—Arabelle."

"Arabelle Reign," Dick clarified, and there was a suspicious and slightly disgruntled note in his voice. "Damian's _fiancée._"

Now, of course, Bruce understood that not knowing he had a son for a decade meant that he didn't know everything about Damian. With that in mind, he also wasn't there for every important moment in his life so far. He didn't think it was fair to question Damian when the boy was still trying to settle into Gotham and pick up a brand new life with him. Yet even realizing this, he couldn't help but be a _little _aggravated and annoyed that both Talia and Damian had failed to mention this detail.

Alright, more than a little. But he had every right to be concerned.

"You never told me about this…arrangement." Bruce said carefully, hiding his protective nature from his voice.

"I didn't think my past associations would really matter in Gotham," Damian said honestly, his hands behind his back. Bruce couldn't help but be stuck on the fact that his son was so casual about the entire thing.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Wayne," the young girl said, "but I when I heard that Damian was here I had no choice but to follow."

Bruce glanced to Damian, and there seemed to be a sort of approval mixed into his expression. It felt strange; stranger than maybe even the situation itself. His son gestured with one hand to her, "For the time being I'd like Ara to stay here. We have much to catch up on."

"Wait, wait, wait," Dick said, holding up his hands and then pointing to Ara. "Damian we can't just let her stay here. It's bad enough we've brought her to the cave. None of us know anything about her—"

"When I came you knew nothing about me other than that I was the blood son," Damian interrupted, a sharp glare aimed at his brother. "And that I was a trained assassin as well. Are you implying that she doesn't deserve a chance because you know nothing of her?"

"No, that's not what he's saying," Tim said before Dick could answer. The fact that Tim even spoke up not only surprised Bruce, but Damian as well. "You're right; Ara should have her own opportunity. And if you know her…we're relying on your judgment."

At first Damian seemed at a total loss for words, but then he sniffed and turned his head away, "Well, Drake, you've finally made a valid point that I can agree with. I judge that she should stay, as she has nowhere else to go."

All eyes turned to Bruce. Dick's gaze begged him to say no, Tim's insisting yes, while Ara remained quiet and Damian stood waiting. Bruce stayed silent for so long that he almost forgot that they were waiting on an answer. He sighed, "Damian, go with Alfred and show Ara to her room. She can stay here for now."

Damian smiled triumphantly, and ushered the young girl upstairs to where Alfred was already waiting, having appeared and probably had observed the whole ordeal. Bruce watched them disappear out of the cave, and once they were gone Dick said angrily, "You have got to be kidding me. Are you out of your mind, Bruce? And Tim, what the hell was that?"

Tim replied, "We can't just cast her out, Dick. There's a reason she's here. It would be best to keep her someplace we can watch her."

The older boy shook his head, "This is a bad idea. Who knows what her real motive is."

The question sounded rhetorical, and when nobody answered Dick looked to Bruce. "Well what do you have to say for your insane decision?"

Bruce ignored the inquiry and sat in his chair, looking between both his sons. "Tell me everything that happened."

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><p>"Here is your room, Miss Arabelle," Alfred said as he opened the door. "I hope you find everything to your liking."<p>

Damian remained in the doorway as Ara went in, giving the room a quick once over. He could remember, when he had asked about her skills, that the girl had a strong memory. She scanned any scene with a subconscious critical eye, remembering details that most would not. Ara nodded to the butler, "It will be fine, thank you."

"Can I bring you anything else?" Alfred asked, and Ara replied in the negative. Damian moved aside for the butler to pass, and then entered the room, staying only a foot from the doorway still.

"Pennyworth will bring anything that you need," Damian said as she looked to him. "Do not hesitate to ask."

Ara tipped her head to the side, "You vouched for me with more confidence than I expected."

"We are engaged," Damian said, and the way he said it made the whole thing sound like an alliance more than anything matrimonial. "I think that you have the right to be in my presence. Don't mind Grayson—he's…unusual."

"I'll keep that in mind," Ara replied, and a small smile came onto her face. It broke through her hard gaze, like the cloud over her expression had passed. Damian had never seen her smile before; in fact it was the friendliest look he'd ever seen from her. Had he been the same way not too long ago, when his smile was only at the pain of his enemies?

Then it disappeared, and her eyebrows knit together, a small frown on her lips. "Damian, why did you stop me?"

It took him a moment to understand what she meant. Then he remembered grabbing her wrist, locking her in place to save the life of that damned criminal. In response Damian said, "It wasn't in your best interest to kill him. He was not worth the effort."

"That was not the action of an assassin," Ara noted, "which is why I did not use the term when I first talked to you."

"_And you have become an even better warrior."_ Damian could feel the words on his tongue; he wanted to say that he'd learned that there was more to justice than killing. Being Robin had opened that gateway to him. Saying that to Ara, however, didn't feel right at all, and so he held back.

"We have a lot to discuss," Damian said, turning his body towards the door, "Tomorrow we can talk."

Ara nodded once, her dark blue eyes seeming to gleam in the light of the room. "Sleep well, Damian."

He didn't answer and walked out, shutting the door behind him. For a minute he stood there, gazing at the door, eyebrows furrowed. Part of him felt like he'd betrayed his father by not saying the truth to Ara. Why did it bother him so much then, that he wasn't called an assassin? He took being Robin with pride. Serving by his father's side was something that he didn't want to trade in. He was happy to give up his past to be Robin, wasn't he?

In all honesty, Damian wasn't sure.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hello again. I present to you Chapter Three of this story. Thank you to those that are continuing to read and write a review, favorite, or follow! It means a lot to me. I hope this chapter is enjoyable. :) Please let me know your thoughts!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own DC Comics.**

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><p>Dick didn't notice how many hours he'd actually laid awake that night. The quietness of the manor had only served as fuel for his active mind, which tossed and turned thoughts and theories. With the blankets tangled around his legs and his arms behind his head, he'd stared at the ceiling and continued to be irritated with Bruce's decision to allow Ara to stay. He didn't like that she was here; wasn't fond of his youngest brother's acceptance of her. It felt like a disturbance to the family, one that Dick wanted to quickly get rid of. Something in him just screamed that the girl had to go, for Damian's sake. He'd closed his eyes and tried to forget about it, but the attempt was futile. There was no way that he was going to be able to sleep when he was so concerned about Damian.<p>

By the time he was finally starting to relax, the rising sun was sending its rays into his room, chasing away the darkness. Dick sighed and considered closing the curtains and trying to get at least a couple hours of sleep, but decided against it. He was just going to have to rely on his endurance to get him through the day without any rest. Kicking the blankets aside, Dick got out and headed for the shower. The warm water soothed him a little; unfortunately it didn't bury his thoughts. Half an hour later he was still on edge, but he tried to ignore it as he made his way down the hall.

At the top of the stairs he was met with Tim, who still seemed to have to haze of sleep hanging over him. Dick smiled and reached a hand out, ruffling his hair. "Morning, Sleeping Beauty."

"Mm," Tim replied, lazily reaching a hand up and smoothing down the strands Dick had stuck up. "Hey."

Dick surveyed him a moment, taking in the circles under his eyes and the half dazed state Tim was in. "Did you go to bed last night?"

"No," Tim answered with a yawn, stretching his arms above his head. "I was investigating our guest."

Dick didn't know why he hadn't assumed that. The conversation with Bruce the night before had ended basically the way it had when he'd sent Damian upstairs; Ara would stay for now, and the Bat and two older birds would try to find out what they could about their suspicious guest. If Bruce already had any ideas, he wasn't sharing them. Dick knew that all he could do was wait until his father chose to tell him; which could be two days away or a year.

"Find anything useful?" Dick asked as they descended the staircase.

"Nothing," Tim admitted, frowning slightly. "No record of her name anywhere in this country at least; I still have to search internationally."

Dick hummed in thought and nodded, "I don't think you'll discover anything there either."

"Doesn't hurt to check anyways," Tim replied, though Dick could tell he didn't have much hope in that search anyway. "We might just have to ask her ourselves."

"How are we supposed to believe anything she says?" To Dick's surprise, his tone didn't sound hostile. It was purely questioning.

Tim shrugged, "Damian seems to trust her. That has to count for something, right?"

Though he had a point, Dick didn't comment. The two of them went into the kitchen, the smell of Alfred's cooking filling Dick's nose and almost caused him to smile. A meal from his favorite butler could always improve his mood. However once he entered the kitchen, the temptation to smile vanished. Seated at the table was Damian, and beside him sat Ara. Neither were talking, but it was clear in their body language that both were comfortable.

The fact that Ara was in Dick's spot irked him enough. He couldn't help but feel protective, wanting to separate them to opposite sides of the room. Instead he collected himself and took the plate that Alfred offered him, and sat down at the table across from the youngest boy. Tim sat next to him, and Dick saw his eyes flick to Bruce's empty chair. Their father had probably left for Wayne Enterprises not too long ago, as usual. Damian lifted his head, and Dick saw the daggers that he shot at him with his eyes. Yet he said nothing and continued eating. Dick would have rather heard a snarky comment.

Glancing over, he set his gaze on Ara briefly. The girl sat so still that she could have been a statue. It unnerved Dick; the stillness made her seem unpredictable. He almost shook his head at the thought; telling himself to get a grip. She was a child; he shouldn't feel so threatened. Then again, Damian was young too and he could be deadly, even though they were trying to break him of the habit. Ara caught him looking and locked eyes with him. "Is there something troubling you?"

"No," Dick answered, a little quicker than he had intended.

"Can I help you with anything then, Dick? Or would you rather me call you Richard?" Her curious gaze remained on him, her inquiry honest.

"Dick is fine," he answered, running his thumb against the side of his fork.

Ara gave a short nod, and Damian abruptly stood, shoving his chair back with his palms pressed into the surface of the table. He sent another glare to Dick and then said, "Ara, let's take a walk around the manor grounds."

The girl slid off her chair, her feet not making any sound as they touched the floor. She started walking out of the kitchen, as if she had walked through the manor a thousand times before. Damian followed after her, but stopped as Dick got up and said, "Damian, hey. What's wrong?"

"Are you going to take my side now, Grayson?" Damian narrowed his eyes at him, "Or will you betray me again?"

Dick was taken aback, his expression softening, "Dami, I'm just concerned. I don't want you to get hurt."

"It proves a point when _Drake _of all people will stand by my decision and not you." The hurt in Damian's voice was evident, striking Dick hard. He had not realized that his hesitance had bothered his brother so much.

"You have to understand where I'm coming from," Dick persisted, holding out his hands as if inviting the younger boy to come over and hear his explanation.

Damian just shook his head once, "Do not speak to me, Grayson."

He turned and walked out of the kitchen, Dick remaining standing with a saddened expression. What he really wanted was to go after Damian so that he could try to make him see the reasoning. But he knew that it would only make matters worse, which was the last thing that he wanted. Tim got to his feet, "I'm going to go see what I can find. Do you want to come?"

"Yeah," Dick replied reluctantly, "Sure."

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><p>"Your…family…doesn't seem to like me much," Ara said as they headed back towards the manor. Damian had taken her all over the grounds, acting as though the area was a historic sight and she was the tourist. While the toll of walking and abundance of facts and information he shared with her could have bored anyone else, Ara was patient and listened to every word he said. It was nice to just talk and actually have someone willing to hear what he was saying. The more distance they put between themselves and the house, the more he was at ease. Grayson's attitude had angered him, and the fact that he used his 'I'm worried' excuse did not help to calm Damian's inner fire.<p>

They took their leisurely time going back to the manor, and there was still a long way to go when Ara said her comment. She had an expression on her face that at first Damian identified as unpleasant, but then decided it looked more troubled. Damian shoved his hands into his pockets; a habit that he had picked up from Todd whenever he'd see the distant man. "They can't seem to trust my intuition. It's aggravating."

"They do have the right to be concerned," Ara admitted, and then shrugged her shoulder. "Are they always this way?"

Damian glanced to the side, "Only with me. I wonder if they even trust me at all."

While he guessed it was just his anger making him talk like he was, he couldn't deny that he truly did have his doubts. He had come into the family not too long ago, and Bruce took care of him as if he were made of glass. Damian didn't need to be babied; he knew how to defend himself. He was not allowed to do anything on his own, yet Drake could and he was not even physically conditioned as him. It wasn't fair at all. He looked back to Ara, "They all need to realize that I do fine on my own."

"You always have," she replied, "so I've been told. Why did you decide to stay if you are so miserable?"

"I'm not miserable," Damian clarified, "I'm…frustrated."

Hurt was more like the word, but that was not the description he wanted to give to anyone. Ara tipped her head to the side, "You were trusted with the League of Shadows. I don't understand why the single role of Robin is such a daunting thing to your father."

He could have explained about Todd, or the death of Grayson's parents, but he didn't. Revealing all of that would be excusing his father for all of his choices, and Damian was not willing to do that. "I am the best Robin that there ever was. And I'm going to be an even better Batman."

Ara's eyes flashed, and then narrowed, "Batman? What about the league?"

Mentally, Damian cursed himself. That was not what he had meant to come out of his mouth. But his words seemed to be emerging on their own. He crossed his arms, "I didn't mean that literally. If I were to be Batman, I'd surpass Father."

"I'm sure that would be the case," Ara said. Damian had forgotten how agreeing she could be with him; it was how she was raised after all. Her voice, though soft, was strong and clear, "Your destiny is not here, Damian. There are people waiting for you to rule over them when the time is right. And when that time comes I will stand by you."

"Have you ever considered that perhaps there is a different path than what we've always assumed?" Damian set his gaze on her, his expression curious. Since he'd met his father, the question had lingered on his mind. It's why he was able to accept staying in Gotham; he wanted to see if there was a different way for him to live, a new position that he was supposed to take up.

Ara however only crinkled her nose and stared at him in confusion. "I'm afraid I don't understand. We were bred to be who we are and to serve that purpose in the future."

_She won't get it_, Damian thought to himself. Bruce was the one who had unveiled the whole other part of his family; the other part of his life he'd always been missing. But Ara didn't have any pieces to discover; she was raised knowing her purpose. Every day she had known what her goal was, never wondering about a parent that she had heard only stories of. She was more stoical in her place than himself, he saw that now.

"Never mind," Damian waved away the conversation, like smoke in the air. "Would you care to spar?"

Her lips curled upwards, trying to repress a smirk, "Can you only think of dismissing a troubling moment by fighting?"

"Afraid you'll lose, Reign?" It was the first time that Damian had spoken to her by her last name. He was used to having to show her respect, since they were engaged after all.

If she was taken aback, she did not show it. "No, it has been a long time since we've gone against one another. This will be a learning experience."

Damian took that as a yes to her wanting to and led her back to the manor. Already he could tell she would be a worthy opponent; technically he'd known for years that she was. She was quick to match his stride as they walked, to fall into step beside him as if they were one in the same. Damian showed her into the cave, where he could hear the typing of keys on the computer. Sitting in the chair was Drake, and beside him stood Grayson, whose eyes were focused on the screen. At the sound of them entering whatever they were viewing was closed, and Damian didn't get the chance to catch a glimpse of it.

"Grayson, Drake. You must leave," Damian told them as they came onto the same level as the other boys.

Drake raised an eyebrow, "You don't own the cave, Damian."

"I do not wish to have an audience while I spar with Ara," he said, and Grayson looked momentarily shocked and deeply concerned.

"Is that such a good idea?" The oldest brother set his uneasy gaze on Ara, who didn't react to it.

Damian glared, "Tt. Would you rather go a round with her, Grayson?"

"Yes," he replied, stepping forwards much to Damian's irritation. Leave it to his older brother to step up to the challenge. "Are you alright with that, Ara?"

"Of course," the young girl replied, and Damian's lips twitched. He really hoped that Grayson had a guess as to what he was in for.

Drake stood up, "May I get in on this?"

"The more the merrier," Grayson replied, and followed Ara into the clear part of the room.

Damian crossed his arms, his watchful eyes settling on the three. Ara stood in the center of the room, while Grayson and Drake took up opposite sides of her. They were a considerable distance away, but they didn't seem to know who they were about to go up against. Already they were underestimating her; Damian knew that. So he was not surprised that when both Drake and Grayson dove for her, she disappeared out of the way so fast that if he had blinked he would have missed it. She was a black blur, dipping under a kick from Grayson that would have sent her flying backwards if she had been slower. Damian smirked; now this was entertaining.

Ara crossed her arms in front of her face, blocking a punch that Drake threw her way, then quickly drove his next punch off course. She jumped, kicking him in the chest and vaulting into the air. Then she flipped backwards, her hands planting onto Grayson's shoulders, holding the handstand like pose for a second before shoving off of him and landing on the ground. Her foot swung out, nailing Grayson in the back of the leg. He fell and rolled back to his feet, while Ara slipped under Drake's arm. Damian leaned forwards as their hands blocked in punched in intense hand-to-hand combat. She managed to knee him in the stomach, but Grayson was able to leap out and restrain her, getting her arms behind her back so that she could not use them.

The girl looked up at him, her dark blue eyes gleaming. "I was holding back, I assure you."

A wry smile came onto Grayson's face, "Good to know."

He released her and Drake came forwards, "That was impressive for a ten year old."

"You were trained well," another voice said, and all eyes turned to the top of the stairs. Bruce stood there, half hidden in shadow, observing the group below. He was still dressed in a business suit; Damian guessed he had just returned to the manor. "Ara, I'd like to speak with you."

The girl nodded and headed up the stairs, Bruce glancing over his sons. Damian noticed how his gaze lingered on them, and he wished that he could tell just what his father was thinking. But his expression gave nothing away, just as always. Ara made her way past him, and Damian started to turn away when Bruce called, "And Damian?"

"Yes, Father?"

"Don't think that I've forgotten about last night. We're going to have a talk."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Here is chapter four. Thanks to everyone for their reviews, follows, and favorites. I'm so grateful for them! Please share your thoughts on this chapter or the story in general! I hope you all enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own DC Comics.**

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><p>"Thank you for agreeing to speak to me," Bruce said to Ara as they entered his office. It was a large, formidable space, with a polished wooden desk and two cushioned chairs seated in front of it. Shelves of books lined the walls, and the windows let in natural light to illuminate the room. Bruce didn't quite consider it his true office; that was the cave. But it was necessary for show and Wayne Enterprises information when he had to play the businessman role.<p>

"I didn't intend to argue," Ara told him, her gaze wandering around. Bruce noticed that about her; no matter how she tried to hide it there was a very strong sense of wonder in her, a curiosity that never dwindled. It would almost seem childlike, if there wasn't such an analytical appearance in her eyes. She was knowledgeable; Bruce understood that he couldn't let his sympathies get in the way of his interrogation.

He moved around to the opposite side of the desk and took a seat in the chair. Ara remained standing, and then Bruce realized she was waiting for an invitation. Making a gesture with his hand, Ara then took a seat in the chair, her feet not quite reaching the ground. She sat up straight, hands folded in her lap as she crossed her legs. Bruce rested his arms on the desk. "I'd like to discuss the details of my son's engagement to you."

"You seem unsettled by it," Ara noted, her expression innocent despite the secrets that he was sure she harbored.

"I don't mean to come off that way," Bruce replied, his tone not quite apologetic. "But there are things in Damian's life that I feel I am obligated to know about. Sometimes that means I go directly to those that he knows."

"Mr. Wayne," the young girl said, and if Bruce did not have such control over his poker face he would have raised his eyebrows. Her cut-to-the-chase tone of voice accompanied a dark gaze as she looked at him. There was power in the expression; confidence and understanding. "This is not about the engagement. You do not trust me, and I don't trust you. What you're asking, simply, is why I'm here and for what purpose."

Bruce raised his head slightly, watching her carefully. "I know that you're smart, Ara. And I also know that you aren't going to tell me that reason. If you do, it won't be the truth."

"You're correct," Ara replied, not at all intimidated by the man in front of her. Bruce couldn't help but wonder if it was because she had the upper hand or if she really wasn't afraid of him. She continued, "I'm sure since you are the world's greatest detective that the answer will come soon enough. If not, that is nothing I can help."

Tension in the room stretched out further. The idea that she would try to out front attack him crossed his mind, but the thought was quickly dismissed. Although Ara was just as prepared for any sudden occasion as his son, Bruce knew that she was not Damian. If anything, she was calculating and patient and that made her even more dangerous. The silence was almost deafening, and he said slowly, "I'll find out your motive. But for now, this conversation is about Damian and the engagement."

And really, she was the only person in the vicinity besides Damian that would be able to tell him anything about it. His son didn't seem willing to give out those details, and that left him to converse with the only other source. Ara regarded him for a minute, her deep blue eyes focused, and then she blinked and said, "I am willing to explain that."

A small bit of the tension evaporated. Still, from the distance between Bruce and Ara there was a strong force that told the other to not invade their space. Bruce nodded and said to her, "I don't know why Damian didn't tell me."

Ara's expression shifted into half confusion, half disbelief at Bruce's words. "There isn't a reason why he would bother to."

"As a father, I feel that there is." Bruce said. "I know both Ra's and Talia. They wouldn't just allow Damian to marry anyone, and so I understand why they would arrange a marriage. What I want to know is why it was you they picked."

Something flickered across Ara's expression; it could have been annoyance or offense. "I was not picked by anyone. I earned Damian's hand."

At that Bruce leaned forwards, "Earned?"

"Yes," Ara said, a note of pride in her voice. It quickly disappeared as she rested her arms on the armrests of the chair and asked, "In your line of work, have you ever heard of the Silent Hand?"

Bruce thought it was a joke at first, especially at the slight smirk that came onto her face. But otherwise she looked very serious, and so Bruce answered, "No, I haven't."

"It was a small assassin group," Ara explained, "led by my parents. Those exiled from their homelands, ex-criminals needing an escape, army deserters, mercenaries, and others were a part of it. The group was spread out all over the world, and left no links to anything that was done. We were small, but powerful and continued to gain more and more even after I was born. It caught the attention of Ra's Al Ghul."

The story could have been a lie, Bruce knew, but it explained Ara's obvious assassin lineage. Her facial expression was not guarded as it had been before; she was open about this topic. Bruce gave a nod for her to continue, and Ara explained, "Ra's gathered young daughters of assassins from every place he could find. To their parents he offered a deal; if their daughter married his grandson, then the two groups would merge together, making both the League of Assassins and The Silent Hand stronger. My parents accepted the offer, as did many more."

Bruce frowned slightly, "Ra's sought out those he thought could be contenders."

"Precisely," Ara agreed. "I spent my life training, always being told that I was to be engaged to Damian. It was my right. And so when we were seven years old, Ra's held a tournament to compete for his hand."

Bruce pressed his lips together, "By tournament you mean…"

"A fight to the death," Ara replied, her steely features not changing. "Or at least that was how it was for most; some made it out alive. The winner was granted the reward of being engaged to Damian."

Bruce mulled the information over quietly. Putting this past Ra's was foolish; the man was sure to control every aspect of Damian's life, including his future. That left the detective to believe that Ara was telling the truth, which he believed. He'd watched her spar with his boys, and though it wasn't long she'd put up a fight. She had him convinced. "So now you are supposed to eventually marry Damian."

"Yes," she answered. "Ra's intends for us to marry and one day lead the League of Assassins."

While Bruce believed that, he also saw a reason that either she did not know or was choosing not to say. He only was sure of it because of the situation of Talia and him; Ara was also the one chosen to bear his son's children in the future. Ra's would want nothing more than perfectly able great-grandchildren, if he lived to see them; that was very likely. Based on her skills, Ara was the one right for the job in the man's eyes. Bruce narrowed his eyes slightly; he didn't know if Damian was aware of this.

"And you are to love him?" Once the question left him Bruce realized how it sounded. That was not a very logical question, but one of a concerned parent who didn't want his son being toyed with.

In response Ara looked at him strangely. "It is not about love. It's about uniting two great powers to make an extremely powerful one."

Before Bruce could reply, the door swung open. Both Ara and him looked over, where Alfred stood. His face was one of worry, and immediately the Dark Knight was on his feet. "Master Bruce, come quickly. There is something you need to see."

* * *

><p>"I find this to be ridiculous," Damian muttered as he sat on the floor of the cave. He absently was petting Titus, who seemed to sense the boy's annoyance. Luckily the dog was a comfort to Damian, and perhaps the only thing keeping him from exploding into rage at Drake and Grayson.<p>

If either heard him, they didn't answer. Grayson had returned to standing by the computer while Drake typed away, searching international records for Ara. They hadn't wanted to do it with Damian around, but when he'd demanded that they show him what they were doing they'd had no choice. Since then Damian had taken a seat on the floor and was glad to have the company of the only understanding living thing in the whole entire manor. He watched with scowl as they searched, not bothering to tell them that they would find no records at all.

Grayson sighed and rubbed his face, "Tim, there's nothing here. We've exhausted every source we have."

"That is almost scary when not even Batman has a record on someone," Drake mused, though he didn't look the least bit terrified. "There is always my first suggestion; we could talk to her."

Damian scoffed, "Your declining intelligence amazes me, Drake. There is nothing that she would ever want to say to you."

Drake ignored him and spun around in the chair so he could face Grayson, "It's an option."

"It's an option that I don't think will work," Grayson replied, crossing his arms. "She's not very open."

"Why should she be with you?" Damian said as he stopped petting Titus, resting his hand on the dog's back.

Grayson finally looked at him—it was the first time he had since Damian had slumped onto the floor in annoyance. Damian took in the shadows under his eyes, the slight twitch of aggravation as he tried to keep his features calm. While his father had yelled at him on quite a few occasions, Grayson had yet to lose his temper. Damian wondered how much longer that would last and when he would finally push the older man over the edge. "Exactly, Damian. She doesn't have a reason to be truthful or open. That's why I'm concerned."

Just as he was sure an argument was about to ensue once more they were interrupted by footsteps rushing down the stairs. Bruce was on the ground floor in moments, Ara trailing behind him.

All of the boys became on alert, and Damian stood quickly. "What is it, Father?"

"Hostage situation," he explained as Drake jumped out of the chair, allowing Bruce to type quickly and pull up the news feed. An elementary school showed on the screen, police surrounding the perimeter of the school. Spectators were being held back, and it was easy to identify parents who were standing by watching in terror. The bottom of the screen rolled with information about the criminals; they were demanding money for the children's lives.

Damian was heading towards the back of the cave when Bruce called, "You're staying here Damian."

He whipped around, "Father you can't be serious."

"I am," Bruce said, turning away from the screen. "If you had obeyed my orders before, I would let you come."

"But I'm Robin!" He insisted, "No one else can be!"

"Robin is benched for now," Bruce replied, "Nightwing and Red Robin will help to take down these criminals. Not to mention it's dangerous. They're targeting children and I don't want to involve you in that."

Damian grit his teeth together, balling his hands into fists. How dare his father try to keep him back. Suddenly Ara stepped forwards, "If they are focused on children, why not use their motive against them?"

Grayson stared at her, "Are you suggesting that we put children in as decoys?"

Ara gestured to herself and then to Damian, "We can lure them out from the inside and take them down easier. They will not be expecting it."

Bruce's expression was grim, and Ara persisted, her gaze level, "I know that Batman tries to save as many lives as possible. Would it be worth it to take them by surprise and save maybe one or two more children, despite the danger?"

There was silence, and Damian stood stalk still. Behind his father Grayson and Drake were watching with careful looks, not daring to interject. Damian glanced towards the screen, impatience growing. His father was going to say no, and he would be stuck here watching as others got hurt. He was Robin; he was supposed to be out on the field. As an assassin he could do even better work—

_No you couldn't_, Damian quickly corrected himself. That wasn't right. When his thoughts threatened to challenge his feelings again, Bruce finally spoke.

"Fine. But this is the last mission and you're benched, Damian. I mean it."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: A bit of a quicker update with a longer chapter. This is kind of my peace offering, since I'm going to be pretty busy and I'm not sure when I'll get the next chapter up. I don't think it will be too long of a wait (just not as soon as I normally update) but I promise I'm not abandoning the story! I'll be working on it every spare moment that I can. :)**

**Please let me know your thoughts! I hope that you enjoy that chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own DC Comics.**

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><p>"I cannot believe you," Dick said for the fifth time. "I feel like I don't even know you anymore."<p>

Dressed up as their superhero counter parts, Bruce, Tim, and Dick were perched on the roof of a building near the school. They were doing their best to stay out of the public's view, not wanting to draw their attention. So far the method was working; they'd managed to not catch anyone's eye. Dick rocked slightly on his feet, focusing on the ground where Damian and Ara were climbing into a window in the back of the building. He wasn't happy that they were sending his brother in alone with Ara; he should be allowed to go with them. The whole 'for the sake of the mission' theme that was running through the operation was getting on his nerves.

"It was a plan on short notice," Bruce, or rather Batman, replied, "I don't like it either, but it works for the time being."

"They're trained, Nightwing," Red Robin added in, glancing to his brother. "We're not sending them in unprepared."

"It's dangerous," Nightwing persisted, glaring through his mask. Suddenly it felt like he was isolated from the rest of them. He seemed to be the only one that even remotely cared about Damian, that he was the sole person that was accepting how risky the whole thing was. It was beyond frustrating. "We're sending him in with _her_!"

At that, Nightwing could see Red Robin's gaze on him, as if he were contemplating saying anything more. The older man had no doubt that he had his own thoughts about the whole situation. Red Robin was calculating; and even though he and Damian didn't get along too often, Tim wasn't cold hearted. If there was anything that he wanted to say, however, it was kept hidden. Nightwing guessed that was for the best, considering that the last thing he wanted to do was get in a fight with another one of his brothers at the moment.

Batman looked to him then, for the first time since they arrived, and gave him a hard stare through his cowl. "This is our plan and we're staying with it. It isn't what I really want to be doing, but we have to."

Nightwing stared back, knowing he shouldn't be starting this while on a mission, but unable to keep himself from stopping. There was just something in Bruce's voice that wasn't quite Batman, wasn't exactly all logic and motive. He said hesitantly, "Please don't tell me that you agreed to let Damian come so he wouldn't be furious with you."

Batman looked away, and Nightwing just about bit his tongue to keep from erupting in anger. He made himself listen as Bruce explained, "I can't lose him. If that means allowing him to be around Ara until we have evidence to prove our point, that's all I can do."

"She's going to corrupt him," Nightwing muttered, glancing back to the ground. He could just see Damian's foot slip through the window, disappearing into the building.

"We'll discuss this later," Bruce replied, his tone final. Out on the field they weren't supposed to speak of personal matters. Nightwing knew this, and so with a clenched jaw he had no choice but to comply and turn away.

* * *

><p>Damian's feet hit the tile floor with barely a sound. The window had let them into an empty classroom, the desks shoved in crooked directions around the room, papers scattered onto the floor. All lights were off, and the door was cracked open, allowing him to see the hallway on the other side of the wall. He surveyed all of that before straightening up from his crouched position. "They must have abandoned the room."<p>

"Or were brought to another by force," Ara suggested, drawing herself up as well. Damian couldn't help but notice how strange it felt to be doing this. Ara was dressed in all black, as she had been just the day before, while he was dressed in a plain dark shirt, jacket, and jeans. Absently he brushed his fingers next to his eye; without his mask and costume Damian was revealed—he didn't like it. But it was for the mission, and so he had to deal with the awkwardness.

"_Damian," _the voice in his ear said, his father's voice, as it came through the com link. _"Status."_

"Just entered the room," Damian said, his voice low as he and Ara crept to the door. "About to head out."

"_Stick to the plan,"_ Batman warned sternly, _"and watch your back."_

"Yes, Father," Damian replied, and heard nothing in reply. Ara peeked out into the hall and motioned that it was clear. The two darted from the room silently, their feet padding softly against the floor as they ran down the hall. Damian couldn't help but feel the thrill rise in his veins as they moved stealthily, sneaking around the corners. It was leaping from the shadows to strike that had always brought a grin to his face, whether in training or real battle.

He had to force himself from grinning now.

As they came on another corner the two of them shrunk against the wall, glancing out around as footsteps could be heard. Walking away from their direction was a man, tall and muscled, tattoos snaking down his arms. Damian glared at his back; the hostages had to be close by. But the plan wasn't to rescue them; he'd reluctantly agreed to letting his father handle that part of the operation. Their job was to draw as many men away as possible.

Damian looked to Ara, who met his gaze with her own steely one. It was relieving to not have to use words to communicate; she could tell what he was going to do thanks to their training. She gave a single nod of understanding and Damian jumped out from their hiding spot, "I think you've outgrown this place, old man."

The crook whipped around, and Damian smirked at his surprised expression. "How did you get—?"

Behind him he felt the air rush by as Ara darted down the next hall, and the criminal shouted, "Hey! Get back here!"

Taking that as his cue, Damian turned and bolted, hearing the man come after him. He was much faster, but slowed a little so that the man wouldn't lose him and give up. Damian had no real idea where he was going, but just followed the path that the halls created for him as the disruption spread through the building. Soon there was another pair of footsteps following him, and then another and finally a whole group trailing after him. Damian heard the gunshots and dove, using an awards' case to shield himself from the bullets. The glass exploded, sending down a shower of shards, and he was on his feet and moving quickly again.

"_Damian!"_ Bruce's sharp voice came through the com, but there was no time to respond. Damian ignored the insistent repeat of his name and kept going, knowing his father could hear what was happening anyways.

His luck ran out as he was met with a wall and nowhere else to go. Cursing he spun around, facing the men as they came towards him. The ones with guns pointed them in his direction, and the ring leader spoke, "Alright kid, you either come with us or—"

"Tt. Yes, your threats are terrifying. If I may offer a quick suggestion before you make any moves," Damian said, the grin he'd been repressing stretching onto his face, "Heads' up."

Much to his amusement, all of the men looked towards the ceiling. Damian heard the loosening of the bolts of the vent above them, and then it all came crashing down, Ara with it. Her boot clad feet slammed into the man's face who was underneath her, and she jumped off and landed a punch to the person next to him. Damian dove into the crowd, knocking the guns from the men's hands and bringing them down one by one. He forgot, as his fist drove too hard into the one man's nose, that he should hold back. It didn't occur to him, as he pounced upon the men, that he shouldn't twist necks or purposely aim to break bones. That wasn't what Robin would do.

But he wasn't Robin.

He was Damian.

And so it didn't faze him as Ara broke the fingers of the man who tried to grab her by her hair, nor did it bother him as he struck the nerve points of the crooks that tried to pin him down. He was an assassin at heart; this is what assassins _did_, how they fought. Damian and Ara sprang forwards, their bodies in sync as they both slammed a punch into the last man standing, causing him to crumble to the ground. For a few seconds, Damian thought that they were alone. Then he heard the running footsteps, the shouts of burly men, and he quickly decided that it was best to get to a more open space.

Ara understood his thought process, and the two ran in the opposite direction of the footsteps and into the front of the school. They stood ready side by side, and just as the men ran into the room a dark form followed by two more colored bodies crashed through the windows, landing by them. Damian half glared at his father, wanting to say that he had it under control, when Batman ordered, "Get out of here, both of you."

Nightwing and Red Robin disappeared; Damian presumed that they'd figured out where the hostages were most likely located. Knowing that he should obey the orders, Damian started to retreat, when Ara's arm flew out in front of him. He frowned, about to question her, when she pointed in the direction of a man fleeing back down the halls. Without thinking a second more, Damian took off after him, Ara by his side as they followed. At first Damian presumed he would be going to where the hostages were, but then the man hurried out the back door.

The two followed as the man ran behind the school, taking off down the street, avoiding the cops. Damian could have caught him, but tackling the man in the public eye didn't seem like a good idea. Instead he opted to follow; Ara and him remaining back a ways so that he would not notice that they were trailing him. He rounded a corner into an alley, and Damian thought quickly, choosing to climb up the fire escape of the building. Then he leapt, bouncing off of the buildings and landing in the path of the man, stopping him in his tracks. Behind him Ara took up her place, blocking his exit.

Damian smirked, "Going somewhere, coward?"

The man looked nervously between the two of them and then thrust out his hand, and the smirk fell right off of Damian's face. There was no way he could mistake the red button; it was a detonator. The man's voice shook, "I'll do it! I'll take them all out!"

A growl left Damian, "You're _sick_. The world needs rid of scum like you."

"Who's gonna stop me?" He said and his thumb hovering over the button twitched.

That was enough to ignite the spark. From seemingly out of nowhere, Ara flung out her hand and sent a dagger flying, hitting the man in the hand. He yelled and the detonator went falling to the ground, and Damian launched himself forwards and caught it. Once he was sure that it wouldn't go off, he grabbed the man by the collar and yanked him down to his level, sending his fist into his face. From that moment Damian wasn't sure of anything else but his limbs striking the man, and knocking him to the ground as he swept his feet out from under him.

Ara suddenly was beside him, her expression one of contempt and disgust. This man, this horrible excuse for a human being, Damian decided, did not deserve to live. He jumped on his chest, picking up the knife that Ara had thrown and raised it up. His hand was poised and ready, and he locked eyes with the girl, her eyes prompting him to do it. He _could_, after all, he'd done it before. And this was what he was raised to do, he was meant to.

"_Damian!" _ He almost jumped out of his skin at Batman's voice in his ear. _"Where are you?"_

He wasn't just an assassin, he was Robin too; at least he was trying to be. Very slowly, Damian lowered the knife to his side. "A couple blocks down. One of their men tried to escape and we followed."

If his father was relieved, he didn't show it. _"I'm sending Nightwing your way. Stay put."_

Damian stepped off the man, who was out cold on the ground. Ara stared at him for a moment and then held out her hand, "You hesitate yet again."

"He'll get what he deserves another day," Damian replied and dropped the dagger into her hand.

Ara concealed it, raising her eyes to Damian's. Her voice was cool, "We don't believe in karma, Damian. Justice will only come if you deal it out yourself."

"Another day then," Damian answered.

He tried to convince himself of that as Nightwing's shadow stretched over him, like a protective cover from the world.

* * *

><p>"<em>Thanks to the efforts of Batman, Nightwing, and Red Robin, the students and faculty of a local elementary school were saved this afternoon from a hostage situation…"<em>

Bruce noticed the scoff that Damian made at the news reporter's analysis. Usually he tried not to listen to the reports of his activities, but while he'd been patched up for minor injuries by Alfred (that he had managed to get away with ignoring for a long while) his son had sat slouched in the computer chair watching the evening news. Despite the attitude that Damian was portraying, Bruce knew that he was just unhappy by not receiving any credit for his actions. And while he was proud of his boy, he couldn't admit to that right at the moment. Doing so would make him rethink Damian's punishment, and that was something he couldn't set aside.

"I hope today satisfied you," Bruce said, his voice stern, "because I meant what I said."

Damian's expression morphed into anger, and he sprung out of the chair and stormed up to him. "Father you can't be serious! I helped to save those people!"

"You did well," Bruce replied firmly, "but you disobeyed me previously. And not just once, but _twice. _That can be a horrible mistake in the field. When I ask you to do something, Damian, I expect you to listen, whether you like it or not."

"But I haveto stay! It's my right!" Damian's glare had deepened, his stance tense and his hands balled into angry fists.

Bruce wasn't persuaded. As Batman he had seen so much, and his experiences only reminded him of why he had to be so strict. Another Robin flashed through his memory; one that held anger and ferocity in him that Bruce could not tame. He clenched his jaw slightly, "That is an _order_, Damian. If you can't obey orders, then you can't be Robin. It's part of the job."

For a long moment, Damian just stared at him. Bruce was waiting for him to lash out, to argue further. Instead, his cold words said, "I was not raised to be Robin. I was raised to be an assassin. Maybe that is where I should have stayed."

It was like a giant rift had been shoved between Bruce and his son. He reached a hand out, intending to try to reason with Damian, but it was too late. His son was already racing up the stairs, anger in his steps. There was nothing that he could say to even attempt to make Damian think differently at this point. Bruce exhaled and sat in the chair that his youngest had been sitting in and put his head in his hands. He already felt like he had lost his son.

* * *

><p>Ara did not reveal that she had been hiding in the shadows of the stairs, even when Damian stormed by without noticing. He was filled with so much rage, it was a wonder that he didn't kick down the door instead of going right through it. The girl glanced down at where his father sat, looking as if he had been defeated. She didn't understand why Damian would ever bother to come here where his talents were looked down upon. It didn't make sense to her why he'd subject himself to that.<p>

Quietly she slipped out of the cave and headed up to her room. For a moment she considered knocking on Damian's door, which was shut tight, but decided to let him be. Her soft footsteps padded to her own bedroom, and she shut the door, not bothering to turn off the lights. Sending her gaze quickly over the area, she moved to the window and opened it, having to stretch on her toes to reach the lock. It swung open, the curtains moving in the soft breeze, and Ara hoisted herself onto the ledge so that she was sitting with her legs dangling over the edge.

Though she knew no one was around, she looked over her shoulder to make sure. Then she pulled out her phone and hit speed dial, bringing it to her ear. She was not surprised that the voice on the other end answered so quickly. _"What progress has been made?"_

"He's wavering," Ara reported, her eyes scanning the sky. "It helps that he is in an argument with his father and the circus boy."

The voice on the other end sounded amused, _"That works in our favor. Continue, Ara. I sense that we have him in our hands."_

"Yes, my lady," Ara replied, her eyes on the stars that were twinkling brightly in the sky. "I will bring him home."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Sort of a laid back/setting things up kind of chapter, very toned down from the last one. I hope that it's still enjoyable and keeping you all entertained! Let me know your thoughts and predictions :)**

**Also if you are liking this story's plot, are interested in assassin OCs, or just want to have some more Damian reading, check out KappaOboe's The Rise of Redwing!**

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><p>"These are for you," Tim said, placing the bag full of clothes on the floor in front of Ara. "They should be your size."<p>

The young girl regarded him quietly for a moment and then crouched down, rummaging through the items inside. Originally Alfred was going to bring them up to her room, but Tim had volunteered to do it himself. Really, he wanted to have a chance to observe her for once instead of being surrounded by people that had their eye on her every move. Unlike them, he wasn't afraid to take his gaze off of her and glance around the room. She'd only been there for a couple days, but the room looked as if nobody resided in it at all. That was good for Alfred, Tim thought; it was one less place in the manor that he had to clean.

"If they don't fit we'll get something else," Tim told her, trying for conversation again. She raised her head and stared at him blankly, and he felt the awkwardness fall over him. He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, saying apologetically, "Dick is usually the one to handle this stuff. I'm not that good at it."

Again he was met with silence. Tim wondered if she was purposely acting this way to make him uncomfortable; in that case it was working. Normally a child wouldn't bother him this much, yet she wasn't just a little kid. She was a girl that knew how to kill and had the ability to do it. Of course that concerned him, and he indeed felt bothered, but in a different way than Bruce and Dick; he was intrigued more than anything. There had to be more to her than what she acted like.

"You are different, Tim Drake," Ara finally said, straightening up. Her deep blue eyes seemed even darker than usual, and they watched him with a wary and a little baffled sense to them. "I expected that of all people it would be you that would want me gone most of all."

"Dick likes kids," Tim said, seeing her eyebrows quirk up at the term. "You just unnerve him; he's protective of Damian."

Her eyebrows rose further, "And yet I do not bother you?"

In response he shrugged, "I've gotten used to the craziness of Gotham. We attract the unusual and unsettling."

Ara's lips twitched into a partial smirk. "Well, it's nice to know what category I fall in."

Tim couldn't help but chuckle, and then headed for the door, "Go ahead and get changed."

He shut the door behind him and headed down the hall, almost pausing outside of Damian's door. The younger boy hadn't come out of his room since the night before, and when Tim had tried to coax him out he'd received a string of threats. There was no doubting that in such a mood Damian would actually go through with what he said, and so Tim had let him go. Figuring that it was best to continue, he passed the room, listening for any sound beyond the door.

There was none, and so he left Damian to his sulking and made his way down the stairs and into the Batcave. There wasn't much research that he could do, especially from in the cave. He'd exhausted most of the resources available in the confines of the lair, and ultimately had come up with nothing. Still, Tim was determined to at least find one lead, one tip that could give them more answers about Ara. Bruce had told them, except for Damian, about what the girl had said. While it was convincing, it was just one piece to the large puzzle that they were constructing.

He sat down in the chair and started typing, entering pass codes to open up the database. No sooner had he finished the last code a heavy hand fell to his shoulder, and Tim looked up. Bruce looked from the screen to him. "We both know that there isn't anything here that can help us."

Tim nodded, "I figured it was worth another look."

"It's not," Bruce replied, shaking his head. "We have to get out and find any information for ourselves."

His eyebrows rose, "Where do we even start?"

"You won't be starting anywhere," Bruce said, closing the files on the computer. "I need you to stay at the manor and make sure Damian doesn't run off."

Tim hated playing babysitter, especially to the youngest boy in the house. There was no arguing with Bruce, however, and so he swallowed a sigh and instead said, "And you're going to investigate?"

"Somewhat," Bruce replied, "There isn't much of anything to go off of."

"In other words, you have ideas but you're not sharing them," Tim responded in a summarizing tone. He wasn't surprised that Bruce already had his mind set on the possibilities, and he definitely wasn't shocked that the Dark Knight was keeping them to himself. Sure, it was frustrating, but he had his reasons.

"Ideas are not evidence," Bruce said, lips forming a thin line that could have dipped down slightly into a frown. "We need solid proof before we accuse her of anything."

Tim let out a breath, not enough to be a sigh, and stood up and moved away from the computer. He was his own superhero now, no longer a sidekick, and so he had the right to search if he wanted. Telling his adoptive father no, when he really was asking Tim for help, wasn't something that he could do no matter what he thought. So if Bruce wanted him to sit around the manor to apprehend his little pain-in –the-neck if he tried to do anything stupid, that was what he was ultimately going to do. "Let me know if there's anything that I can provide."

Bruce nodded, and that seemed to close the conversation for good. Seeing no point in remaining in the cave, Tim climbed the stairs back into the upper part of the manor. He could hear the gentle padding of Titus's paws against the floor, and followed them into the kitchen. They stopped before he came in, and when he did he couldn't help but raise his eyebrows. Titus was standing there, and across from him was Ara, who seemed to purposely be putting distance between the two. Her eyes were fierce, as if expecting the dog to come at her with teeth barred.

"Afraid of him?" Tim asked and went over, petting Titus.

The girl crinkled her nose and half glared at Tim, but did not lose the tension in her body. "That was a foolish question. I am not afraid of an animal. They are just unpredictable."

Tim felt it was better not to push on the subject, and so he instead said, "Titus won't hurt you. He's a gentle giant."

Ara gave him an unconvinced look, but then slowly reached out her hand. It hovered in the air for a few moments, and then she carefully rested it on Titus' head. The dog wagged its tail and did nothing more, and though she seemed to be trying to hide the fact that she was more relaxed, Tim could tell. She petted him gently, "Perhaps he is not as vicious as I originally thought."

Half smiling, Tim watched her. There was a unique sort of awe in her; he wondered if she was used to such mundane things. The most likely answer was no; she probably spent most of her days training and trying to stay alive. Even Damian, though he was starting to become more used to his new life, still was somewhat impressed by the most ordinary parts of their world. Tim thought to himself for a moment and then asked, "Want to play fetch with him?"

Ara didn't seem to comprehend what he said. "Fetch? Is that some sort of maneuver?"

Tim bit back a laugh, "Sort of. I'll show you."

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><p>"Okay, I see where you're trying to go with this," Dick said from the other end of the phone. Bruce could just picture his expression; narrowed eyes and lines of uncertainty creasing his forehead as he knit his eyebrows together. Over the years he'd seen it many times before. "But how are we going to find anyone even associated with them if everyone is so spread apart?"<p>

"The Silent Hand is the only connection that we have to learning anything about Ara," Bruce replied, resting his chin on his folded hands. "Other than the League of Assassins. It may not be the smartest plan, but I don't want to go straight to them."

Dick made an understanding humming sound. "It could cause more trouble than it's worth. Alright, but where do we even begin? From what you've told me it isn't like there are a thousand members wandering around that we could choose from."

Sharing the details with Dick had been an easy decision. While he was sure that it would be beneficial to reveal what Ara had said to Tim, the Dark Knight felt that he should keep the information low for the time being. Besides, he needed someone to help him look after Damian, and though Dick would be the better choice it was his eldest son that had the most crime fighting experience. This was a task that Dick could handle, and so he put Tim in charge of staying at the manor. Whether that would prove to be the wrong choice or not only time could tell.

"I don't believe that anyone would send their ten year old child to another country all on their own," Bruce said, knowing that even Talia had accompanied Damian to Gotham. "There must be someone around, and they might even be keeping watch on her."

"Which means they're also watching us," Dick said, his tone grim. "I'm patrolling day and night for now. This needs to come to an end."

Bruce said nothing, causing Dick to prompt, "Are you okay with dragging this out?"

"No," his father answered, "we need answers. But if there is any implication of throwing her out of here, that's not happening."

Dick sighed in frustration, "You pity every child, even the dangerous ones."

"Children that young are mirrors of their parents," Bruce answered, standing up. "I don't think she's evil, just misguided."

"Whatever you want to call it," Dick said, and in the background Bruce could hear his footsteps hitting off the concrete as he walked. "But she isn't like us and she isn't Damian. Ara is a danger, Bruce. And I'm not letting her tear this family apart."

The line went dead as soon as Dick was finished speaking. Bruce stared at the computer screen, but he had no intention of calling back. He saw all of the points his son was trying to make; Dick was never this cold and if it weren't for her origins he wouldn't be. It would be wise to put Ara somewhere at a distance. Yet he couldn't ignore the gut feeling that said to give her a chance. That is what he had given to all of his sons, and to anyone who had been a partner with him. Even with the situation, he was willing to extend that opportunity to the girl.

It was close to twilight, he realized, and soon he would be out on patrol. He wasn't sure that Dick would want to join him; he would probably go solo. Bruce left the cave, going back inside the manor to check on his sons and guest before he headed out. At first he couldn't find anyone in the rooms, not even Tim snooping around his office—which the boy knew better than to attempt anyways. Until he heard Titus barking, it didn't occur to him to check outside. Raising an eyebrow, Bruce went out the back door and into the yard, pausing on the lawn to watch the scene before him.

Tim was standing back a ways, smiling and tossing a tennis ball in his hand. Titus was running back towards Ara, another ball in his jaws. The girl bent down, retrieving the ball and, to Bruce's surprise, actually smiling and petting the dog. Tim asked her, "Still think this is a simple minded game?"

"Yes," Ara answered, straightening up and throwing the ball, Titus chasing after it. "But simple can be good, I suppose."

Bruce half smiled—it was a very small one that faded quickly as if unable to stay on his face. There was no way that he could accept that the girl was everything bad. By her delighted expression and unsure sort of gaze, Bruce was convinced that, like his youngest son, she needed to experience something other than violence and revenge to help her find who she really was. Tim looked up and gave a wave, causing Ara to turn. Bruce noted her surprised expression, like she was trying to cover up that she had been smiling, and he told her, "Titus is very fond of Damian. I'm not surprised he thinks the same of you."

The dog, like he had heard his name, came up to Ara's side. She patted his head and said, "He named him, didn't he?"

Bruce nodded and she replied, "A suitable but ironic name."

Tim made a sound that was half of a scoff. "Only Damian would find humor in that."

"The name 'Damian' means to tame," Ara said almost to herself, her soft voice eerie. "Maybe there is more to it than the League ever expected."

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><p>From his room, Damian scowled at the scene below in the yard. No one noticed him pulling the curtains back, watching Drake play with <em>his <em>dog. And to think that he assumed he had the right to show Ara how to do so as well. How dare he step into Damian's territory; how dare he have more freedom and be trusted more than himself; the_ real_ son of Bruce Wayne. It wasn't fair; none of it was fair. He longed to go out and share his anger with everyone, but at the same time he wanted nothing to do with any of his family.

All day he'd stayed in his room; Alfred had warned him to stop moping but Damian had refused. The anger had stewed, grew stronger as the hours wore on. Now he was not only angry, but bitter as well. Grayson surely disobeyed when he was Robin, Todd was a fool and had gotten himself killed; not like that was Damian's fault. And Drake was never even fit to be Robin in the first place. So why then was he the one being punished? Why did he have to prove himself so much?

"Tt." He snapped the curtains back over the window, blocking out the fading sunlight. Tossing his body off the bed, Damian strode over to his closet and reached into the back, pulling out his sword. His father hated it when he used the weapon and had been trying to break the habit. It was too assassin like; not Robin like.

Damian didn't care. He was an assassin; it was in his blood and other blood was on his hands. He unsheathed the weapon, looking at his reflection in the blade. The ten year old boy's face stared back at him, the bitterness reaching into his eyes. They had seen more than their fair share of bloodshed, of violence, and of terror. And yet he was supposed to leave it all behind in order to conform to Gotham, to be perfect in the mind of his father. Damian couldn't do it.

Swinging out his arm, the blade fell in automatic motions. It sliced through the air, the light glinting off the metal as he quickly moved the blade, as if he was cutting through his anger with each movement he made. When he stopped Damian again saw himself in the reflection, saw the angry boy, the boy that was not good enough, the boy that should never have left home.

"_Your destiny is not here, Damian." _Ara had said that to him, and he was beginning to believe her. When he saw her he saw everything he had left behind and turned over just so he could be told that he was not good enough. And yet half of him still screamed that he needed to keep trying, that he could gain his father's approval. He had to.

Swallowing hard, Damian sheathed the weapon, grasping it tightly. He had to try to be Robin, to be the best partner that his father ever had. If anything at all, he had to make Bruce proud.

And if he couldn't, he told himself, it was not a big deal.

In the end, there was always the choice to go back home.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I didn't think that I was going to manage to get this up today, but I found the time to do so. This story has reached 1,000 views! Thank you all so much for reading my work! I did struggle in writing this chapter, but I hope it doesn't show. As always I hope that you enjoy. Please let me know your thoughts and predictions!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own DC Comics.**

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><p>Nightwing hadn't been his exhausted in a long time. While he could still fly across the rooftops and swing through the air, landing his flips with an inherited grace, he was at the end point of his energy. In the last seventy-two hours he'd barely gotten enough sleep to sustain a normal person through an entire day. Every waking moment he'd been searching for any clue that could put Bruce and himself in the right direction. So far both of them had come up with nothing, usually getting sidetracked by other crime happening in Gotham. To say the least, Nightwing was looking for any sort of lead, just so that he could have something to grasp onto.<p>

Letting out a frustrated sigh, he did a handstand on the ledge of a building, concentrating on the ground below. An anonymous letter had been left at the scene of recent robbery, prompting Nightwing to meet the person behind a shady restaurant that night. He wasn't in the mood for games, but figured that this person was hesitant if they were meeting in a public spot. If it wasn't worth his time then the hero would continue with more important matters; that was his plan at least.

People circulated in and out the back doors, hurrying either way. Nightwing wasn't completely convinced that anyone was going to actually show until a lone figure, head bowed and hands shoved into pockets, discreetly slipped outside. He leaned up against the wall of the building, a hood drawn down over his face. The way he tapped his foot indicated anxiety; this was Nightwing's guy for sure. He expertly tossed himself off the ledge and flipped, landing close enough to the man to speak and far enough to keep a safe distance.

The man jumped, his words stuttering, "N-Nightwing. Y-you got the message."

Terrified criminals were both unpredictable and easier to deal with. Nightwing raised his head slightly, "I'm really not in the mood to pity anyone tonight. So this better be a real good reason."

"If it wasn't I wouldn't have bothered," the man cleared his throat, collecting himself. "I could be killed for giving you this tip."

The threat didn't surprise or spur Nightwing into action. He remained posed exactly as he had been the second before, waiting for an explanation. The thug shifted and said, "The local drug cartel. They're changing hands."

At that Nightwing raised his eyebrows. As far as he had known Red Hood controlled a good portion of the cartel, and that was how he managed to keep his eye on Gotham. "Whose hands?"

"Dunno," the man replied, lifting his head slightly to reveal dark eyes set into a tan face. "Some foreigners. Couldn't have been in Gotham long, but they know how to get their hands dirty."

It was hard for Nightwing not to get his hopes up. This was the information he had been searching for; at least a piece of it. The tip was a start that he desperately needed if he was going to stay sane. "Anything else you can tell me?"

"They're stationed in Bludhaven," the man said and rolled up his sleeve, glancing at a scratched wristwatch. "I don't have anything else that I can tell you."

"Good enough," Nightwing said, taking a few steps back, "Thanks for performing your civic duty."

He didn't care if there was a reply to that or not. Nightwing took off, filled with a rush of excitement as he ran, the wind like an adrenaline rush. This was it; it had to be the lead that he had been searching for. Nightwing scaled a building, dashing across the rooftop and then firing his grappling, swinging down through the city. He had to tell Bruce; find him and share the news. The possibility was eating him alive with hope. _Finally_, he thought.

_Finally._

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><p>Damian lunged forwards, expecting to come in contact with flesh. Instead his hand met air, and he got his footing and whipped around, his eyes narrowed. Ara had always had speed as her ally, which hadn't changed as she had gotten older. Sparring with her now was reminiscent in a sense, but much more intense than his memory served to show. The girl stopped, her body poised and ready, and Damian leapt again, attempting to grab her. He saw the smirk before he understood; at the last second she was no longer in front of him and his feet were swept out from under his body. On his back he growled, rolling swiftly to his feet and turning to face Ara. "Your deceptive tactics are more difficult to predict than I imagined."<p>

"I spent my whole life from my early years training to win your hand," Ara replied, still smirking with a dangerous glint in her eye. "Of course I'd learn a few tricks."

"Maybe," Damian mused, a sharp grin spreading over his face, "but I know more."

Ara's expression challenged him to prove it, and he took the offer. They both ran towards each other, punches flying and their limbs blocking. Damian grabbed her arm, twisted it around her back and she grit her teeth, trying to kick him. Knowing that he had her, in one swift move he had turned her around and then knocked her backwards, then jumping upon her and forcing the girl off her feet. She hit the ground, harder than Damian had been intending, and Damian thrust his hand forwards, stopping it just as his knuckles brushed her neck.

Deep blue eyes looked at him with a hardened gaze. He was almost taken aback by how her voice sounded, incredulous but amused and proud all at the same time. "If you would have been holding a weapon, I'd be dead."

"Isn't that the point, Reign?" Damian answered, not at all caring how he sounded. Over the past three days he'd been benched, his anger had grown more. He did not see the point in why his father held back anymore. All of it seemed so foolish; ending the lives of criminals was a much more efficient way of dealing with them. He'd decided that, and reverted back to his usual fighting style which Bruce had been working out of him. It did not startle the boy that he could still fight like he had first learned.

Ara eyed him for a long moment and then said slowly, "I suppose that is so."

He wanted to know what she meant by that. Damian stood and pulled her to her feet, though Ara was perfectly capable of getting up herself. He went to question her, when he saw the hardness of her eyes soften and he looked over his shoulder. Holding back an annoyed sound, he watched as Drake came down into the cave. If anything bothered him the most, it was the profound affect that the idiot had on Ara. Damian was sorry to say that he was sure Ara was becoming fond of him; she was friendlier around him than she was with any of the others. Though Damian knew that was how he had been with Grayson, when the older man had been the one to give him a chance.

Damian rolled his eyes, "Must you interrupt us, Drake?"

"I'm just checking in," he replied, smiling to Ara. Damian felt his eye twitch; the other boy's genuine kindness to her only aggravated him. Only he was supposed to guide Ara; he was the only one with true ties to her. She should be off limits from Drake's corruption. Everything that the teen was doing was going to get to her head; Damian didn't even like the fact that she was wearing a light blue shirt and dark pants, her hair pulled back. She didn't look like an assassin; she looked like a normal girl.

"Leave it to Pennyworth," Damian said with venom in his voice.

Drake didn't bat an eye and looked to Ara, "Speaking of Alfred, he said we should have a movie night. More 'family' time, kind of. It's more to get Damian to stop sulking."

"I can hear you," Damian said, glaring.

"That's the point," Drake answered, glancing at him and back to Ara. "What do you say? There'll be popcorn."

Her blank stare was enough for Drake to realize that she had no clue what he was talking about. At least when he came to Gotham Damian acted like he knew about the common foods and some of the entertainment. Ara, however, was very open in stating that she was new to all of this. With a heavy sigh, Damian crossed his arms, "I expect that now would be the time to show her."

"Just remember who said we should when I end up getting blamed for it," Drake warned and headed upstairs.

Under his breath Damian muttered, "How can you find his presence enjoyable, Reign?"

"He's different," she said, her eyebrows knitting together, "Kindness is…foreign to me."

That was something that he could sympathize with. No one other than the members of Wayne Manor had taught him what it meant to be kind, to show mercy, and to appreciate everything he had. If he hadn't been feeling so estranged from them, possibly the boy would have offered some sort of words to Ara, maybe something comforting. But Damian wasn't in the mood to do so. Silently he followed the two upstairs, mentally cursing each step the entire way.

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><p>Tim wouldn't say it aloud, but he really wanted to tell Damian to quit acting so childish. Currently the boy was leaning up against the counter, scowling into the air. So Bruce had benched him for a while. He deserved it. The kid got away with disobeying orders too often; he was glad that the Dark Knight was tightening his grip. Sometimes he was just about convinced that it would be Damian who would one day expose them accidentally, or put them in a horrible situation that got everyone killed. That was pushing it to the extremes, Tim occasionally admitted, but he wouldn't be surprised if the little brat did manage to pull it off.<p>

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Ara with her face mere inches from the microwave, and Tim repressed a smile. The girl was alike to his younger brother, but at the same time much easier to deal with. Unlike Damian, she was open to learning new things. Tim had come to the conclusion that it was her inner curiosity of everything different that allowed her to be that way. She was good at suppressing her wonder; that had probably been something she'd been forced to learn over the years. Habits were hard to break though, and Ara couldn't keep herself from being intrigued.

Kind of like himself; he'd always had a curious streak. Maybe that was why he sympathized with her and genuinely wanted to teach her about what she had been shielded from. Not to mention he was not convinced that the girl was all bad; he had decided that, like Damian when he had first come, she was just misguided. Dick had been the only one able to get their youngest brother to try new things; now the roles seemed reversed. It was his turn to show someone a different path.

And have some fun with it.

Tim was about to warn Ara, when he heard the popping in the microwave. At the same time Ara sprung backwards, stumbling in surprise. She glared at the machine and gave a dangerous hiss, while Damian doubled over in laughter. Tim couldn't hold back and started chuckling; her glare was not threatening but embarrassed. She actually looked ten years old for a moment; her hard gaze usually made her seem older to the teen. Damian's grin didn't have much bite to it, surprisingly. They could have been normal kids in that moment of time.

A sudden sound caught Tim's attention, and he looked to Ara and saw her laughing. It was strange; he'd never really considered that the girl could laugh. Even Damian seemed taken aback at the sound, but then relaxed into an expression that if Tim didn't know better he would have guessed Damian heard her laugh all the time. Tim smiled to her, taking the bag out of the microwave. "I should have mentioned that happens."

"It's alright," Ara said, still smiling. Tim felt like he should have been timing how long the expression stayed on her face. "I shouldn't have let my guard down."

"Fair enough," Tim said, holding out the bag to her.

She skeptically looked in, and then took a piece and held it between her fingers. Behind her Damian shook his head, yet Tim could see that he did have some sort of tenderness in his eyes. It reminded Tim of being the new student in a new school, and someone else looking on and remembering when they had been in the other person's shoes. Ara popped the piece in her mouth, eyes lighting up and eyebrows raising. Tim tried not to chuckle, "Like it?"

"It's strange," she replied. "This is common?"

"Very," Tim assured her. "Everyone eats it here."

"Hmm," she answered, a thoughtful look on her face.

"Did Alfred suggest another movie night?" All three looked up as Bruce came into the kitchen.

"More like a command," Tim said honestly. "How was the meeting?"

Bruce leaned against the counter, almost exactly like Damian was. His son's eyes flicked to him, like he realized the same thing. If he did, Damian made no other move to acknowledge it. Bruce said, "Would have much rather been home. Sometimes the day job is more frustrating than the night one."

"Considering it ran all the way into the night," Tim suggested, "I would think so."

Bruce looked like he wanted to say something else, but the ringing of his phone cut him off. Tim resisted sighing and watched as he took it out and answered. His adoptive father's face went from tired to awake, and Tim strained to hear who was on the other end. Having to lean forwards, he almost tripped over Damian who had moved closer as well, trying to listen in on the conversation. Tim was sure that he recognized it as Dick's voice, but he couldn't make out the words. Bruce's answers remained as simple as ever, not indicating anything at all. "I see…yes…we'll meet there."

When he hung up he glanced between his sons and then said, "Nightwing caught a tip. The drug cartel is shifting hands."

Tim raised an eyebrow, "We're meeting him then?"

Bruce nodded, though Tim could tell that there was something up. His jaw almost dropped when the man said, "Damian, if you can follow orders, I want you to come."

The boy's eyes slightly widened, but he said calmly, "I can, Father. I will."

"Go suit up," he said, and Damian hurried down into the cave, Ara on his heels.

Tim waited until they were both gone before turning a questioning gaze on Bruce, but the man held up his hand. "I'll explain later. But he needs to come if Nightwing is right."

As selfish as it was, he wanted to argue with Bruce. Three days of no patrol, and Damian was then back out on the field. His recklessness had barely even been punished. It really wasn't fair that the kid was getting off so easy. Tim was tempted to say so, but that would be a waste of time. Instead he met Bruce's eyes and replied, "I guess we better hope that he is."

It was Bruce's expression turning grim, that made Tim want to take it back. "I'm not sure that I want him to be."


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I did not intend for there to be fluff in this chapter, but I think there is some underlying fluffiness going on here at some points. Not sure if that's good or bad, hopefully you all enjoy it. Things are picking up from this point on, so if you've been wanting to see more action I can promise there will be a lot more. Please let me know what you think. :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own DC Comics.**

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><p>Luck was just pouring upon Nightwing that night. Not only had he been tipped off about the drug cartel, but he'd also managed to find their hideout. Really, the spot was hidden in plain sight; an abandoned car garage set back in the not-as-horrible section of Bludhaven. He was sure that after the night was over the area would be as bad as its surroundings. That wasn't his concern at the time, as he was more focused on capturing the possible escorts that Ara had brought with her.<p>

There wasn't a long wait from the minute that Nightwing called Bruce to when they all showed up. He wasn't happy to see Damian; in fact he had been expecting that it would only be Batman and Red Robin. But Damian was suited up as Robin, along with Ara who was once again dressed in all black. Since this was an effort to prove to the ten year old that his little companion was no good, Nightwing figured that it wasn't so bad of an arrangement. At least the boy wasn't scowling at him anymore.

The garage had windows on the sides of it, uncovered so that they could see inside. Batman didn't need to communicate orally to Nightwing to explain what he was thinking. Years of working by the Bat's side had taught him enough in order for him to decipher the plan of action. Each of them crept along the perimeter of the building, which was strangely unguarded on the outside. They split up individually, each of them taking a window on a different side of the walls. Batman took up the front window, while he chose one from the back.

When he looked through the grime covered window, the sight inside didn't surprise him. There was a gang of people inside, stacks of money and drugs piled throughout the room. A table was set up in the middle, where some were playing cards and smoking, alcohol bottles strewn on the floor. While this was definitely the place, Nightwing couldn't pick out anyone from the crowd that looked foreign. Realistically he should have expected that they wouldn't completely stand out—maybe they'd even fake an accent to disguise their own. He tightened his hands into fists, gritting his teeth. Whatever the case, this had to be it.

He waited for a signal; a voice through the com or an action to happen. It took longer than he expected, but Bruce crashed through the front window. All heads turned, chairs were shoved back as people rose to their feet, and Nightwing burst through the back, shattering the glass pane as he went through. The moment he entered guns were raised, and he surged forwards to disarm the men as quickly as possible. He heard the bullets and moved fast on his feet, feeling them brush by his skin. Urging himself to focus, he drew his escrima sticks and darted into the fray, determined to take the men down.

The breaking of glass told him that the rest of the heroes had entered. Red Robin dove straight into the rumble, delving into the action. From the corner of his vision Nightwing could see Batman handling the men towards the front of the garage, while Robin landed on the table and startling everyone around it. Ara was right behind him, and she sprung into the air, her small form descending upon the men that didn't notice the shadow girl. Robin spoke as he came closer, "Trust me enough to fight by my side?"

"I've always trusted you," Nightwing replied, sliding into stance as he regained his footing. "I never thought otherwise."

Robin made a scoffing noise, and Nightwing could have sworn that he detected affection. Not dwelling on it he continued fighting, knocking out the men and sending three crashing into boxes, which shattered on impact of their bodies. All of them resembled the usual scum on Bludhaven; he was momentarily discouraged. Then from his peripheral vision he saw a bulky form dart towards the open doorway of the garage. Another followed, Batman turning in an attempt to go after them but was distracted by gunshots.

Nightwing took off instead, bounding out the door. He could see the two running off in the distance; they were fast, but he was faster. The hero didn't waste another moment and followed after, running as if not his life, but Damian's, depended on it.

* * *

><p>Even in the heat of the action, Robin was tempted to follow after Nightwing. He'd seen the blue and black clothed man dart out the doors before he was distracted by a fist coming his way. That was taken care of easily; a few broken fingers did the trick, a swift kick knocked the man out cold. And while he could have dodged around the rest of the drug dealers and made it into the night to go after Nightwing, he decided that wasn't the best choice. Robin didn't want to disobey his father and end up benched even longer.<p>

Gritting his teeth, he sent an angry punch to a muscled dealer that sent him to the floor. Beyond him on the opposite end of the room, Batman was taking care of the fools that decided to gang up on the hero. Behind his mask Robin rolled his eyes; what a stupid idea. Turning on his heel, the sidekick took out a batarang, throwing it and slicing into an arm, causing one of the criminals to drop their gun. Robin used the distraction to take down a few more, his feet kicking into their heads, flipping them onto their backs. He jumped backwards, landing on top of a stack of crates, able to see everything from the elevated height.

That was how he saw one man raise his gun at Ara's back when she was occupied with another thug coming at her. Robin dove forwards, crashing into the girl as he heard the sound of the gun, feeling the bullet whiz by his head as they both toppled to the ground, rolling away. They broke apart quickly; Ara's eyes alight with adrenaline and surprise. "What was that?"

Robin scoffed, "It's called saving your life, Reign. Also known as what Batman and Robin do on a daily basis for this city."

Her eyebrows knit together, "You are not in this to save your own life?"

The smart response that he was going to give her he bit back, reminding himself that Ara didn't understand the concept. She was not raised to think of others, to respect life; neither was he, but Robin had guidance now. "No. We protect one another."

Motion stirred behind him and Robin whipped around in his crouched position, seeing one of the thugs raising a knife, about to bring it down on the ten year old. He jumped to his feet, side stepping the weapon but feeling it cut through his costume anyway, slicing skin. Withholding a grimace he brought his knee up, forcing the wind out of the man. Robin was about to react further when a red and black form collided with the criminal, sending him to the ground. Red Robin said over his shoulder, "Sorry, should have had my eye on you."

"Watch it," Robin growled, more as a warning, leaping out and grabbing a man by his collar and flipping him onto the floor, harder than he had actually intended.

When he looked back Ara was looking between the two of them in amazement. Just as quickly as the surprise had came across her features, she concealed it and rose to her feet, heading back into the fray. Robin shook his head, and fought back to back with Red Robin, not bothering to complain. Drake was helpful in a fight, but he'd never admit that. With most of the weapons scattered across the room thanks to disarming the criminals, Red Robin reached into his belt and pulled out something, Robin not realizing what it was until he saw the small silver balls hit the ground and explode, sending smoke throughout the air.

Robin went straight into the smoke with Batman, taking down the last few men with his father. They called out threats, and then they turned to cries of mercy as Damian dug his foot into their stomachs, or cracking a few of their ribs; that wasn't purely accidental. _What imbeciles_, Robin thought, staying low until the smoke cleared. When it did he met Batman's gaze, but didn't find anything in it that was either approving or disapproving. Suppressing an angry sigh, he clenched his jaw and dragged the criminals to the center of the room, tying them up.

Red Robin assisted, as did Ara who obediently did as the teen told her, much to Robin's annoyance. The only person that she was supposed to listen to was _him_. He decided that he shouldn't mention it until later, and swallowed his angry comments in favor for yelling at Drake later. The teen suddenly lifted his head, pressing his fingers to his com. Robin hadn't had the time to get one, and neither had Ara, and now he wished that he had the aggravating earpiece just so he could hear the other end of the conversation. The only person that could be speaking was Nightwing, and the boy was so impatient; he wanted to know where Grayson had gone.

Watching Red Robin intently, he could only hear the teens response. "Understood. I'll let him know."

He looked to Batman, who had just finished sending in a call to the police. As the man came over Red Robin explained, "Nightwing says that he will stay behind to talk to the cops. Said he had to 'chase down some important suspects' that were involved."

While it was obvious to Robin that Drake didn't understand what that meant, Batman clearly did. He wasn't one for leaving the scene of such a large crime often, but the Bat nodded. "Let's go."

A protest rose in Robin's throat, but he forced it back down. Truthfully, he was afraid of disobeying his father right now. His place as Robin could be at stake, and he didn't want to risk it anymore. He went to roll his shoulders back and winced, clamping a hand over his shoulder. Now that the adrenaline of battle was wearing off the pain was becoming worse. The blood seeping through his gloved hand confirmed that as well.

Maybe going home was a good idea after all.

* * *

><p>"Are you in need of anything, Master Damian?" The butler was at work stitching his shoulder, Damian sitting straight up in the chair and allowing him to do so without much protest. As hard as it was to believe, the boy was trying to behave.<p>

"No, Pennyworth," he replied with a partial growl. Damian had taken pain much worse, and so the stinging was more of a nuisance than anything. "Continue."

The butler did so, and Damian let his eyes wander to Ara, who sat in a chair across from him. 'Sat' wasn't exactly the right word; the girl was perched on the chair, balancing her weight unconsciously as she stared at the air with a narrowed gaze. Damian recognized the look as her thinking face; it was an odd quirk of hers that he had always accepted and never thought to question. Of course if it wasn't something so troubling then she wouldn't have the expression, or be poised so tensely.

"Instead of trying to look at something that's clearly not there," Damian suggested sarcastically, "why don't you just say what is on your mind?"

Yes, that was his way of asking that she tell him what was wrong. Ara met his eyes, and he could see the annoyance in them, but the emotion was not directed at him. "I do not understand. You fight in order to save others and to stay alive, but would give your life for someone else."

Damian didn't remember when he had once found the whole thing confusing as well. Beside him Pennyworth glanced up, and then quickly went back to work. The ten year old was sure that the butler was listening in, waiting for him to respond. He tried to explain, shrugging with his good shoulder, "That's how it is here. Revenge is not a motivation. We fight to bring justice and to protect other people, and that is a very important rule when it comes to those that…that we care for."

Her eyebrows rose, "You care for Tim?"

"Tt," Damian replied, glaring, "I did not say that. It is the right thing to protect him. We fight for the same cause."

There was no way in a thousand years that he would ever admit that despite Drake's foolishness, aggravating attitude, and annoying record of being right, Damian actually did care about the teen.

But he did feel that way.

It was obvious that Ara didn't believe him, but she kept it to herself and nodded hesitantly. "Your concept of preserving life confuses me."

"The life of a person is more important than I once thought," Damian said, frowning a little. "My father has taught me that it should be cherished, not wasted."

"Even those who choose to do wrong?" Ara's features morphed from confusion into half understanding. She still seemed skeptical, but Damian was at least grateful that she was trying to comprehend what he was saying.

"Everyone makes mistakes," he replied, almost cursing at how much he sounded like Grayson. "I still occasionally end the life of a criminal. It is wrong, but my Father hopefully understands that I am trying."

"I'm sure that he does," Ara said, her eyes shining. "Mr. Wayne is a very wise man, so I've heard."

Damian nodded, and Pennyworth stood, patting his back. "Master Bruce is indeed wise. Have faith in that, Master Damian."

Instead of showing either of them any sign that he believed their words, Damian stayed silent in doubt.

* * *

><p>Bruce was proud of his son. Not only had he obeyed his orders completely, not ever questioning them once, but he'd continued to listen even after the mission was over. He'd been eavesdropping on Damian and Ara as his boy was patched up, and the words had brought a small smile to his face. Finally, confirmation that his teachings were actually rubbing off on Damian. For months he had been hoping to hear words just like that.<p>

Of course Damian still sounded conflicted, which Bruce had expected. There was no reason that his son would abandon everything he was ever taught at the drop of a hat in favor of his ways. The Bat was glad enough that Damian was accepting his beliefs instead of blowing them off. When his name entered the conversation he was about to intervene, taking a step forwards, when Dick's voice came in through his com,_ "You there?"_

He had been prepared to hear back from his eldest, already having told Tim that he would not be staying in the cave for long. The teen had pressed him for answers and received none, and eventually gave up and agreed. Never would Bruce have thought that Tim would be more defiant than Damian. "What do you need?"

"_I've got them,"_ Dick replied. _"Brought them back to the scene of the crime once the police rolled out. I'm waiting on you before I do anything else."_

Bruce looked back over his shoulder. Damian was hopping off the chair, insisting that he was alright and didn't need any assistance. Ara stood in front of him, a small smile on her face as she tried to coax him into letting Alfred help him put on his shirt. A pang of guilt went through Bruce. He was going behind his son's back in an effort to protect him. At the same time he was sneaking past Ara, who he wasn't convinced was really behind anything horrible. She was misguided, unsure, and Bruce could see what he had witnessed with Damian; she was learning and unconsciously conforming to his ways. But he couldn't overlook anything and put his son, any of them, in danger.

If he had to expose her though, it was going to hurt.

"I'm on my way."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Quick update because these next couple of days are going to be busy for me, so I won't have much time to write. Next chapter may be posted a little later than usual. Please let me know what you think! I hope you enjoy.**

* * *

><p>"Of all places to be," Tim said to himself, "why here?"<p>

He wasn't exactly happy that both Bruce and Dick had gone off to deal with some important business and leave him in the dark about it. The teen was worried and intrigued at the same time, and while he really wanted to try and figure out what they were up to, he had a feeling that nothing in the cave at his disposal would actually be a help. So he settled for, once more, watching the two ten year old children at the manor. Damian had chosen to relax in his room after Tim suggested he rest his shoulder. The boy had scoffed, grumbled about how annoying Tim was, and gone off.

Ara, however, he had not seen since Bruce left. Wondering if she was alright, Tim had knocked on her door and waited for an answer. No sound came from the room, and so he went inside. The girl wasn't there, and he rushed around the manor in search of her. He'd checked every possible place that she could be, daring to look in Bruce's office and praying that she wasn't snooping through his stuff. To his relief she wasn't there either, but it only renewed his concern. For a few minutes he stood in the main hallway, thinking over every possibility, any place that he still could look.

He hadn't checked the roof.

When he thought about it again, he wasn't all that surprised. He shook his head as he climbed up; hadn't Ara been in enough danger tonight to give it a rest? Apparently not, because he found her sitting there with her arms draped around her knees, looking out into the night. Tim admired the view for a moment from behind her and then said, "If you're going to be hanging out up here, give me a warning, okay?"

She turned her head to look at him, frowning a little. "I didn't know that you would think of me."

For what felt like the thousandth time in the days since Ara had arrived, Tim was so thankful that he had met Bruce and been inducted into this family. They had taught him things that before he had not known, just as Ara didn't now. He took a seat beside her, stretching out his legs. "Of course I did. I wanted to make sure that you were alright."

The young girl crinkled her nose, turning her gaze back on the sky. "Your family confounds me. It does not make sense."

"We're different," Tim admitted, watching her closely. She seemed frustrated beneath her cool exterior, yet she was trying not to show it.

"You train together," Ara explained, "and fight for the same cause. But there is…loyalty. A kind that I have never seen before."

"I'm not sure what you're getting at," Tim answered. Sure, they were all loyal for the most part. Damian had his problems following orders, but they wouldn't turn on each other. At least he was sure that he wouldn't.

Ara chewed on her lip, struggling for words. "Everyone thinks differently, though they fight together. In battle, they protect one another at the cost of their own lives, if that becomes a necessity. You…care for one another, I think."

Tim's eyebrows rose as her words clicked together in his head. Now it was painfully obvious to him why she was so lost and hung up on the whole thing. "Ara, that's what families do. They protect one another from harm. We're not soldiers. We care for each other."

The girl was quiet for a long time. Tim gave her the chance to think it over, not interrupting her thoughts. After the period of silence she sighed so softly that if he hadn't been listening then he wouldn't have caught the sound. "I do not understand."

"I'm guessing that this isn't how your family is," Tim said, trying to disguise the sadness in his voice. She could have taken offense to his words, and he didn't want to ignite a fire that would be hard to put out.

"My whole life I was focused on winning Damian's hand," Ara said, tapping her fingers against her legs. "That was always my goal, what my family instilled in me. So many girls lost their lives in that fight, many were seriously injured."

Tim didn't know what she was talking about; he assumed Bruce knew and hadn't bothered to tell him. The news shocked him for a moment and he tried to regain composure, thinking that she was done speaking and that he could ask a question. Instead she spoke again, "If that were me, I would have rather died."

"And not have your life to live?" Tim did his best to keep the incredulous tone out of his voice. Hearing such horrible words from a child was startling; she shouldn't have had thoughts like that.

"It would have been better than having to return to my parents and face their disapproval," Ara told him, her eyes shining. Despite the effort to hide her emotions, Tim could tell how much it would have hurt the girl if this were to have really happened. He couldn't help but want to tell her that family wasn't like that. Unfortunately, he had no idea where to start. How could he explain that to someone who had been raised as an assassin, not a daughter?

Instead he said kindly, "Well, I'm glad you won."

Curiously, Ara looked to him, "Why's that?"

"Because if you hadn't, I wouldn't have gotten to meet you," Tim said with a comforting smile. "And I am happy that I did."

Surprise lit her eyes, clearly not expecting to hear anything like that. The teen doubted she'd ever heard any sort of kindness before. She seemed stunned for a moment, and then Ara smiled to Tim. There was warmth in it that he had not seen before, and it caused his own smile to widen more. He'd cheered her up, which was an accomplishment. If he had Dick's charm then he could have done better, but this would have to work for now.

"What are you idiots doing?" Both Ara and Tim looked over to the small form standing a little away from them, a scowl on his face. It was strange to see him poised on the roof in baggy pants and a black T-shirt instead of his costume.

"Damian, get off the roof," Tim said automatically, then realized that not only did Damian have incredible balance, but Ara was on the roof too. It wasn't exactly fair to call him out on it.

Instead of complaining at the lack of fairness, Damian rolled his eyes, "Your fleeting intelligence astounds me, Drake. Might I suggest jumping off the roof to see if you can fly?"

"You can go first," Tim replied, earning another glare. He was surprised that Damian didn't throw a dagger at him already. Maybe it was Ara causing him to be somewhat civil.

"Pennyworth insists that we all spend some time together," Damian said, seeming to resist rolling his eyes again. "Until Father and Grayson return home."

There was no way that Alfred was advocating staying up late to watch a movie when Bruce and Dick could return home as late as dawn. Tim could have called out Damian's worry. The ten year old had probably realized that his father had gone out without him and finally understood that it was better not to follow. Instead of doing that Tim stood, carefully pulling Ara to her feet. "That's a good idea. I doubt that Bruce wants to find us all up here anyway."

* * *

><p>Although Dick had said he'd caught both of the men, he'd only been able to actually catch one. While that concerned Bruce, he knew that one was better than nothing. He'd deal with the escaped criminal later. At the moment, dressed as Batman, he stood in the garage that had been the scene of the crime only a little while ago. The man in question was tied up on the ground, Nightwing standing on his left with his arms crossed. He was a foreigner for sure; his jet black hair and tanned skin stood out in Gotham, as did the thick accent that sounded Middle Eastern.<p>

"Are you going to talk yet?" Nightwing asked, sounding irritated. He'd begun interrogating the man before Batman had arrived, and hadn't been able to get a word out of him.

"I don't know anything," the man replied, sticking to his defense that he'd been repeating since Batman had come.

"If you're not going to," Batman said, giving him a look that would have sent him fleeing if he wasn't tied up. "We'll have to make you talk."

"I know nothing," the man insisted, and Batman could see the anxiety in his eyes. "We escorted the girl to Gotham; that's it. Our master and lady told us nothing else!"

Batman looked to Nightwing, his voice grim. "He's telling the truth."

"That doesn't help us!" Nightwing shouted, and Batman wanted to take him aside. It was no secret that his son was stressed and worried, and now his frayed nerves were starting to take over. Dick had been betting on this lead, and Batman knew that he'd put all his hope into it. Going home and being at a dead end would not be good for him.

"I can still help!" The man insisted, regaining the heroes' attention. "I know where they are. You can go and ask them yourself why the girl was sent here."

Batman pressed his lips together, looking over to Nightwing. The younger man motioned him to the other side of the room, and the two walked over to the shadowed corner and faced each other. Easily Batman could tell that his son was ready to get the information and run off to try and find answers. That was something he couldn't allow to happen; he was not letting Dick put himself in danger. "You're not going."

"I have to go," Nightwing persisted, his hands tightening into fists. "This is our only shot at finding out why Ara is here. We can't just let it slip away."

"You're not going," Batman repeated, "I am."

Nightwing quieted, clearly not expecting the answer. It was rare that Batman would leave Gotham on a wild goose chase, but Bruce had to consider the safety of his family. "You will stay and guard the city until I return. It's either that or nothing happens at all."

Whatever his eldest son was thinking, he didn't say. Nightwing was quiet, his fists loosening their fight grip and falling limp at his sides. Someone had to stay in Gotham; they couldn't both leave. One of them was going to have to go alone, and Nightwing was smart enough to know that his father would never let him do that. He took a deep breath and looked at the Dark Knight, "Get there, find the information, and come home."

"You know what to do," Bruce replied, setting a hand briefly on his son's shoulder before removing it. "We'll talk about this more later."

"Right," Nightwing nodded, stepping back into the room. "Time to find out where The Silent Hand creators are hiding."

* * *

><p>Ara had gone to her room to change out of her black clothes before the movie started. It was nice to have clothing of color instead of black and gray that she normally wore back home. She'd thrown on a purple long sleeved shirt and dark pants, which were actually long on her. Tim had said that they could get her new ones if they didn't fit, but Ara didn't want to cause him trouble. She was lucky enough that they'd even allowed her to stay.<p>

The teen's words still weighed on her conscience. No one had ever gotten to her so much before; not her mother or father or any of her trainers. Not even the members of The Silent Hand and their doubting of her skill ever bothered her the way Tim's words did. Why did she feel as though her life was so out of the ordinary and this crazy household was how everything was supposed to work? Nothing made sense to her at all.

Shaking her head, Ara was about to walk out of the room when the soft buzzing of her phone made her halt in her step. She hurried over to the bedside table, pulling the phone out from the drawer. Her short stay at the manor didn't prompt her to hide the phone; no one assumed she even had one. Automatically, as she was used to, Ara stood straight as she answered. "Yes, my lady?"

No one here called adults that; only Alfred called the members of the household by Master and her Miss. _"Ara. They're onto you."_

"How?" A quick course of adrenaline started through her veins. Surely she had done nothing but obey Damian as she had been taught to. If she had made a false move, Ara knew that she'd be punished.

"_Nightwing captured one of your escorts,"_ the woman said, distaste in her tone. _"I'm afraid that you will have to work quicker."_

She didn't dare to say that she wasn't sure she wanted to. "I will work harder to convince him."

"_It may not be enough,"_ the woman replied. _"I am giving you three days, Ara. If you cannot convince Damian to return home, then I will enact my plan."_

Ara was glad that she was only on the phone so that no one could see her pale at the words. If she failed, she'd be severely punished. She was doing everything so that the plan _wouldn't _be put into action, and it still hadn't been good enough. Her hope that this mission would be painless vanished. Distantly the girl could hear Tim calling for her, and she forced her voice to be strong. "Yes, I understand."

"_I knew that you would," _the woman replied. _"Bring him home, Ara, or I will have no choice."_

The line went dead, and Ara dropped the phone back into the drawer, looking towards the window. Tim's words, all of the words he had spoken to her during her time at the manor, whirled around her head, her orders mixing in with them. Right and wrong were always blurred to her; now they felt inseparable. Everything was spiraling out of her control; maybe she never even had it to begin with. Ara was at a loss, trapped within her duty.

All she could be sure of was that she didn't want to tear this confusing family apart.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Hello hello! I found time to write this out today; gotta love Sundays. I can't believe this is already ten chapters. Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me and this story so far! Please let me know what you think. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own DC Comics.**

* * *

><p>Tim was just beginning to drift off when he heard footsteps come into the room. At first he assumed that the movie was just an excuse for Damian to wait up for his father. But as the hours wore on and the credits rolled onto the screen, Tim could see exhaustion taking its toll. Halfway through the second two-hour movie, Damian had fallen asleep on the other end of the couch, clutching a pillow like it was his tie to earth. On the floor Ara was curled up with Titus, having fallen asleep minutes before Tim's younger brother. The sight was cute, he had to admit. He'd never tell Damian that; it was one less dagger he'd like in his thigh.<p>

With the low volume of the TV as a simple buzz in his ears, Tim had started to fall asleep, sure that the heroes wouldn't return until the sun had risen. Much to his surprise, and relief, he jolted awake at the sound of them entering the room, shifting to turn and look at them. Dick had changed out of his costume, but Bruce remained in the shadows dressed as Batman. Carefully getting off the couch, Tim went over to the Bat, Dick coming closer. Bruce said in a low, quiet voice, "Dick is going to be in charge for a while."

Tim narrowed his eyes, "Where are you going?"

The teen was filled in on what had happened, and as he was told he slowly frowned. "This is going a little too far."

"Tim," Dick sighed, now showing his exasperation, "I don't know what's gotten into your head, but we can't trust her. If we don't get answers, she could tear us all down."

"She's _ten_," Tim argued, keeping his angry whisper as low as possible. "We don't have to interrogate her. No one did this with Damian."

There was a silence, and Tim wondered whether or not he'd struck some sense into their heads. Dick looked to his father, blue eyes hard in the dim light. Tim was briefly taken aback by how tired his brother seemed; so worn with darkness under his eyes. It made the teen feel guilty for his insistence for a moment, but it was quickly stamped out when Bruce spoke. "Damian is my son. I took him in and he proved himself to me. But Ara came for him, and we don't know her intentions. There isn't any way for me to really trust her."

Obviously he was defeated. Tim shook his head, "Fine. You go and do what you want. But I'm actually going to give her a chance."

"Haven't I been giving her one?" Bruce asked. "I need to find out the truth, Tim. I'm doing it to protect all of you."

Again, no one said a word. Dick looked too tired to answer, and Tim turned his face away. Bruce's reasoning appealed to his emotions; it was nice to be loved and important to someone. Yet the unfairness of the situation caused him to rethink his feelings. Temptation filled him to tell his father that he should be protecting Ara too, that she was misguided and needed to be taught; his child or not. There was only so much that Tim could do.

Bruce put a hand on his shoulder, making Tim look to him. The Bat's masked expression did him no good in deciphering just what the man felt. "There is no way for me to save someone if I don't know the full story. I don't want to make a wrong move. That's something I know you understand."

"Whatever," Tim muttered, completely annoyed by the whole conversation. Yes, he knew that being careful was a good thing. He just was sick of having everyone jumping to extremes. Children changed; they should have all known that. He pulled himself from the group and went back into the room, kneeling down on the floor. Titus raised his head as the teen lifted Ara into his arms; Tim couldn't help but be amazed that her small form was so strong. Ignoring the gazes of the two older men, he carried her upstairs, intending to come back for Damian.

Maybe it would be Dick that held charge over the house, but Tim was going to be the one taking care of both of them.

* * *

><p>Grayson wasn't doing well. That was what Damian surmised from his father's comment of, "You need to get some sleep."<p>

He'd woken to those words, cracking his eyes open. There were a few things different from before; Ara was no longer lying on the floor and when Damian stretched out his legs he didn't dig his feet into Drake's side. Somewhere behind the couch were Grayson and his father, but Damian stayed put as if he were asleep. He heard Grayson exhale deeply, "How am I going to be able to do that?"

"Dick, I'll be fine," his father replied, assurance in his tone. "All of this needs to stop. It's putting your health at risk."

_Idiot._ Really, Damian wasn't that surprised. When Grayson disappeared for a few days and never stopped home once, there had to be something up. He had personally checked the tracker on the Batcomputer himself to make sure that the older man was still alive; he couldn't risk his own costume being held even longer by going to search for him. Now that he was home, Damian was going to give him a piece of his mind very soon.

"My health is in good condition," Grayson said, but his weak voice proved otherwise. "I'm going to be anxious until I get answers, Bruce."

"I'll get them," his father promised, and the sound of his father patting his other son's shoulder could be heard. "Watch over everyone until I get back, like we discussed."

Damian refrained from jumping up off the couch, gripping the pillow in his grasp even tighter. His father was leaving? What for? The pieces were clicking together fast; his father was leaving and Damian wasn't going with him. He didn't want Damian there. Anger welled up in his chest, but he stayed quiet as the older man's voice said. "Go relax. I'll talk to you soon."

Grayson sighed and agreed quietly, going up the stairs. His soft and light footsteps padded to the upper floor and then disappeared altogether. Heavier footsteps came forwards, and Damian could feel his father approaching the couch. A hand fell to his head, an affectionate gesture that in other circumstances Damian would have been happy to accept. This was not the night however, and he whipped his hand up and caught a hold of his father's wrist. He jerked under his son's grasp, but didn't pull away. "What are you doing," Damian began, opening his eyes and glaring at the man, "abandoning Gotham?"

His father's stare was cold through the cowl, and Damian really wanted to rip it off so that he could see the expression beneath it. "I have to go out on a mission. Dick is watching over the city while I'm gone."

"Take me with you," Damian said, shoving away his wrist and standing up on the couch. He stood tall, looking up at the Bat with determination. "We can go at once."

"No," the Dark Knight replied sternly. "You're still benched, Damian."

"What does that matter?" Damian said, voice rising. "You need me! There is a reason that Batman has a Robin; so he doesn't have to do anything alone!"

Damian thought that he had struck a chord in the man. Batman's lips that had been pressed together parted in surprise, and his son could feel the surprise radiating off of him. Wasn't that how Drake had become Robin? He'd said that Batman needed a Robin to survive. Maybe reminding the Dark Knight of that would change his mind. Damian had all his hope packed into that theory. But it crumpled at his feet as his father said, "This is something that I have to do alone. I'm sorry, but you have to stay here."

"I am capable!" Damian persisted, leaping off the couch to follow his father as he left the room.

"I know," the man answered, "but you can't come."

Rage filled his small chest as he followed his father into the cave and down the stairs. Damian was ready to latch onto his cape, to scream and kick and beg for his father to _not leave him here. _He was tired of being in the dark, to just obey and not know what the purpose was. His father reached the bottom floor of the cave, making his way over to where he kept all of his vehicles. Damian stopped walking, clutching his hands into fists and yelled, "How _dare _you do this to me!"

That caused the man to stop walking and face him once more. But Damian's anger had dispelled with the yell, like someone had blown out the flame of his anger. In defeat he looked to the side, closing his eyes a moment. "I am doing my best, Father. I will not learn while stuck in this house."

Hands fell to his shoulders, and his father crouched down to his level. "And I believe in you. Once this is over and I find out what I need to, we'll be back in the field as Batman and Robin. But for now you have to wait, alright?"

"Where are you going?" Damian asked lamely. "At least tell me that."

"I can't," his father replied. "But I will be back."

Damian said nothing, staring at his father with an unmoving gaze. There was nothing in it, and the boy masked his disappointment and hurt behind blankness. The Dark Knight stood when he got no response and made his way over to his vehicles. As he left Damian watched, pain swelling up in him. With a clenched jaw, he allowed his gaze to bore into his father, burning until his eyes blurred. He stared as if the image of his father leaving was the last thing he was ever going to see.

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><p>Dick couldn't help but lean in the doorway of his room, watching as Tim left Ara's room. It wasn't like he thought the girl was going to jump out of her sleep and attack his brother, but there was something that he needed to say. As set as Dick was in his feelings, Tim's determination and assurance in the way he spoke had grabbed a hold of the older boy. And on his trip up the stairs he'd decided that he needed to let his brother know this, no matter what the reaction. There were two ways that this could go, after all, and Dick hoped it was the better one.<p>

He waited as Tim left the room, closing the door behind him gently. The teen seemed to see him out of the corner of his eye, and turned his head to fully see Dick. There was a slight scowl on his face, and Tim came over when Dick motioned for him to. The younger boy said, "Are you really so suspicious that you had to stand there and wait for me to come back?"

"That wasn't why I was standing here," Dick corrected, causing Tim to raise his eyebrow in half disbelief.

"Then why?" Tim asked, crossing his arms.

"I needed to tell you," Dick began, "that I'm proud of you."

Tim's eyebrows rose further; Dick was just glad he hadn't exploded into full blown anger. "Again, why?"

"I'm usually the more supportive one," Dick explained, leaning further against the doorway. "But this time I can't be. I'm too worried about Damian. And even though this whole thing is related to Damian, you're still willing to accept Ara. You're giving her a chance. I'm proud of you for that."

Tim's skeptical expression melted into a half smile. "Damian can be a pain in the ass, but he's still our brother. So I get where you're coming from, Dick."

"And I do see where you're coming from," the older boy answered, ruffling his brother's hair. "Maybe if this all turns out okay I can make some amends."

"Maybe?" Tim said with a smirk, "You'll be down on your hands and knees and buying a million presents to make up for your paranoia."

Dick rolled his eyes and gave him a playful shove, "Very cute."

Tim chuckled, erasing any tension between the two. Inside, Dick was relieved. He hated being at odd ends with his brothers, any of them. At least now he understood Tim, and likewise his brother knew how he felt. Tim gestured to the room behind Dick. "Go get some sleep. You look like a ghost."

"I'm the one in charge," Dick replied as Tim headed back downstairs. "You're listening to me for a while."

"Yeah, okay," Tim called back.

Dick chuckled and shut the door.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: A lot of this chapter I didn't plan to put in at this part, but it appeared on the page anyway. Everything is about to hit the fan very soon, which I think the ending hints at. Which means more action soon! Please let me know what you think! I hope you enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own DC Comics.**

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><p>Damian didn't bother to leave the cave after his father had gone. Maybe it was the idea of trudging up in defeat to his room that made him refuse, but not even Alfred had been able to convince the ten year old to come upstairs. Instead of sleeping in his bed he chose to curl up in the chair by the computer, eventually falling asleep there. It was a fitful sleep of dreams that were not quite nightmares, yet enough to stir him multiple times throughout the remainder of the night, each time feeling disturbed. It was like the absence of his father and the manner that he had left had made him sick. After long hours of attempting to rest, he woke in the morning to something wet on his skin; Titus licking his face. With a grunt he sat up and pushed the dog away. "Not now. I'm in no mood."<p>

The dog sat down and looked at him, its wide eyes causing Damian's heart to soften. As unhappy as he was, it wasn't as if it made him feel any better to take his anger out on an innocent animal. The pet did nothing but love him, no matter what the instance. He flipped so that his feet were on the ground and Titus put his paws in his lap. Damian petted him affectionately, smiling a little for a moment. "It is not your fault that I was left behind."

Titus barked, and Damian took it as the dog was agreeing with him. He sighed and looked around the cave, blinking bleariness from his eyes. It was so quiet that he could hear the fluttering of bats' wings in the ceiling as they moved. With his father absent, it was like there was something crucially missing in the lair; Damian felt like he was a pup waiting for its master to come home. At the thought he sniffed, turning his head to the side. If anything, his father should be hurrying back to Gotham for him. There was no way that Damian should be the one doing any waiting.

"Damian," a voice at the top of the stairs called, breaking the quietness.

He recognized the voice and swiveled in the chair so that his back was to the stairs. "Leave my presence, Drake."

On any other occasion, Damian thought, the fool would actually do as he said. For some reason Drake decided to be stubborn, remaining in the doorway. He called down, "Come upstairs. It's time to eat."

"I do not need to be fed like an infant," Damian snapped, crossing his arms and glaring at the floor.

"Alfred made your favorite," Drake tried, attempting to draw the younger boy in.

Damian scoffed, "I do not care or wish to see the result. Leave."

Though he was a good distance away, Damian could hear the muttering as Drake said a whisper under his breath. Not like he cared what the teen thought; nothing he said was going to bring him upstairs. He patted Titus, fixing his gaze on the computer. Footsteps came down to the bottom level, the cautious steps that were easily detectable as Drake's, and still Damian blocked them out. The teen's hand landed on his shoulder, startling him for a second. Composing himself in the next second, he shrugged off Drake's hand, not bothering to threaten him. All he wanted was to be left alone, and no one understood that. At least as an assassin it was easy to get privacy.

Drake raised an eyebrow; the ten year old could see it out of the corner of his eye. Inwardly he smirked; it was fun to surprise his older brother, even involuntarily. Not pulling out a weapon on the other boy for touching him was worth it for the reaction. Besides, he had lost interest in actually hurting Drake purposely a while ago. "Come on, Damian. You can't stay down here forever."

"Watch me," Damian warned, sinking further into the chair.

"Look, I'm sure that Bruce had a good reason for going on his own," Drake said, though he wasn't helping the situation. Damian already knew that everyone would defend his father and never take his side. "And he keeps his word."

"I do not care," Damian answered, turning onto his side in another effort to block out his brother's form.

With a heavy sigh Drake walked away. Suddenly Titus moved away from Damian's grasp, causing the boy to scowl. Assuming that Drake had called the dog over to him he spun around in the chair, sending a glare at whoever was in his line of sight. It quickly diminished when he saw that Ara was standing there, petting Titus as he sat at her feet. Behind her Drake paused on the stairs, watching the scene. The girl's voice was soft, uncharacteristically gentle. "Mr. Wayne will be home in time. Come with us, please."

Her gaze was so level, but kind at the same time. Damian wondered when it had started to seem like anything more than a cold and suspicious expression. He had to admit though; it was actually nice to see the emotion in her eyes. That was what tugged him forwards, giving him the push he needed to get up and follow the girl into the manor. Vaguely he was aware of Drake smiling behind him; the boy decided that today was not the day to waste a perfectly good knife on the idiot.

They emerged into the sunlit kitchen; plates already set out on the table and piled with food. Damian glanced around, almost looking uninterested until he questioned, "Where is Grayson?"

"Still asleep, Master Damian," Alfred replied, ushering the three of them to their seats. Damian bit back an insult and flopped into his chair. "I am sure that he will be down soon."

The words were more of an attempt to ease his hurt feelings, but it didn't work. With a growl he stabbed at his food with his fork in a much more savage way than he had even intended. He sent a heated glare to Drake as he sat across from him, but the teen was unfazed. Ara took a seat next to him, glancing to the ten year old before plucking the fork out of his hand. "I feel that you should not have this if you are upset."

"Protecting Drake now, huh?" Damian muttered, seeing his brother smiling. "Fabulous."

"Smart girl," Drake noted, still smiling. If someone had not come into the room to draw the younger boy's attention, Damian possibly would have lunged across the table at him; just for kicks.

Instead he watched Grayson come into the kitchen, stretching his arms above his head. Since last night he looked refreshed, though shadows still lingered on his skin. His eyes seemed less red from tiredness, and there was a genuine smile that came on when he entered. "Morning everyone."

"You are in an awfully cheerful mood," Damian said, crossing his arms. If he couldn't eat, he'd sulk.

"I feel a lot better," Grayson replied, ruffling his youngest brother's hair. There was a renewed confidence in him, it was written all over his posture. Damian wasn't sure what exactly he was so happy about. "Aren't you glad, Dami?"

Damian scoffed, eyes darting to the side. "If you wish me to be, maybe."

In other words, yes, he was very glad. As angry as Damian had been lately with his older brother, he did not want anything bad to happen to him. Grayson smiled wider, and then it faded to a much scaled down expression as a wave of calm fell over the hero. "I wanted to apologize to you for the way I've been acting. There is nothing that could ever make me mean to purposely hurt your feelings. And I didn't realize how my actions would affect you."

With a raised eyebrow Damian asked, "Admitting that you are wrong?"

"I am," Grayson answered. "Can you forgive me?"

He pretended to think about it, even though his mind was already made up. For several seconds he made it seem as though he was debating, and then with a sigh he replied, "I guess I can."

The next thing he knew Grayson's arms were around him, trapping him in a hug that threatened to squeeze the air out of his lungs. There was no possible way for Damian to get out of the embrace, and so he sighed and allowed his brother to hug him. He counted to ten before saying, "Unhand me, Grayson. This is ridiculous."

Chuckling, Grayson let him go and sat at the table. "This is turning out to be a promising day."

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><p>For Bruce, the hours wore on slowly. The information that Ara's escort proved to be legitimate after a little research on his part. Unfortunately finding that discovery was only the least tiring part of his agenda; the escort could only provide a general area. That meant Ara's home could be any place within the space that was marked on his map; it was a lot of land to cover. On the bright side (or perhaps not so bright side) her home wasn't far from the League of Assassins headquarters.<p>

He'd spent all of his time looking for any lead, going into nearby towns and asking simple questions to try and provoke answers. Finally after hundreds of inquiries he'd been given a piece of information that struck his interest; on the outskirts of one of the towns was a lone mansion, sitting in the middle of a large piece of property. Few ventured there, he found out, but apparently there was rarely activity from the house anyways. With that gaining his attention, the Dark Knight took his chances and followed directions to the house.

There was no gate to block him off, in fact there seemed to be no security whatsoever. Batman raised an eyebrow under his cowl as he approached the mansion. It wasn't well kept; the gardens were overflowing with vegetation and the brick was bleached of color from the sun. Even with his exceptional hearing, Batman couldn't detect even the scuffle of feet from inside the house. He reached out, took a hold of the doorknob, and found that the door itself swung open smoothly. Hot, closed up air came up around him as he entered, suspicion in his step.

The inside was more furnished and clean, the floors shimmering as the sun shone down on them. Batman moved quietly, almost gliding through the mansion as he went from room to room. There was nothing there, however, that indicated anyone had been there recently. As he entered a room that he assumed was a study, he swept his finger across the table. A clear line appeared as he brushed the dust away; it hadn't been used in a long time. If he hadn't seen the drops of dried ink on the table, he would have deemed the place completely abandoned.

They led to a stack of papers, one on top folded in half. Batman picked it up, finding neat and elegant script written on the parchment.

'_The Silent Hand is not stationary, and neither are we. If answers are what you desire, there are none here. Seek us out, and we will negotiate. We are expecting your arrival, Detective. _

_It is our hope that you will not be too late.'_

Batman crumpled the paper in his grasp, clenching his jaw. It was obvious to him now where Ara had picked up her cat-and-mouse skills. He'd been hoping that it wouldn't take such great lengths to get answers, but he had no doubt now that it was the only option. Not only that, but he was running out of time. The pieces were clicking together, and he couldn't be in two places at once. He'd have to do his best to come up with answers and get back to his family before time ran out.

This was not turning out to be a promising day.

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><p>"Really…" Dick spoke, frowning as he reclined in the chair, feet propped up on the table. Alfred was bound to discover him eventually and he'd get an earful for his behavior, but that wasn't exactly anything the former acrobat was concerned about at the moment. He tilted his head as he talked into the phone. "I didn't think they knew."<p>

"_They must have been told by the escort that escaped," _Bruce said from the other end of the line. To Dick's surprise he didn't sound very upset, but there was a stressed note in his voice. He wanted to ask about it, but felt like he should just listen to his father instead. _"This complicates things."_

"But you'll still be able to find them, right?" Dick narrowed his eyes in worry, leaning forwards. They'd gotten this far, and he couldn't imagine that they'd hit a dead end.

"_I should be,"_ Bruce replied, _"But Dick…keep an eye on everyone."_

Now he was extremely concerned. "What did you find?"

"_A note. It warned that we are running out of time_." Bruce hadn't sounded this grim in a long time. His heart rate picked up slightly, and he pressed his lips together and forced himself to calm down. As long as Dick had a watchful eye, everything would be fine. It had to be.

"I'll protect them," Dick promised, bringing his feet off the table and planting them firmly on the ground. He was ready to spring up and check on every single person in the manor.

"_I know you will,"_ Bruce said, _"And I mean it when I say __**everyone.**__"_

Dick nodded, even though his father couldn't see him. "I understand; I'll make a call. Good luck."

Bruce hung up without another word, and Dick was on his feet a second later. Without thinking twice he strode through the manor. A course of adrenaline had entered his veins, and though he wanted to slow it the rush was what compelled him to go quickly. He shoved open the library doors, and sitting in his usual spot by the window was Tim. As soon as he lifted his head from his book the teen's face grew alarmed, and he set the book aside and stood. "What is it? Is Bruce alright?"

"He's fine," Dick assured, taking a deep breath. "I need to talk to you in the cave."

Tim was on his heels within the next ten seconds as they headed to the cave. An abundance of questions came pouring from the teen, "Did something happen? Who is it about? What did he find?"

"I'll tell you in a minute," he promised, and headed down to the cave. "Come on."

It would have been in his best interest if he had noticed the small form following behind them.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Welcome to Chapter Twelve, where everything hits the fan. Sort of. That's up to you all to decide. I don't have much to say other than to please let me know your thoughts. I hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own DC Comics.**

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><p>When Dick became as tense as Bruce on a particularly hard case, Tim knew that there was something serious going on. Part of him felt bad for asking so many questions; he didn't even shut the door behind him as they entered the cave, too busy with his thoughts to notice. All of the shadows in the cave seemed to stretch up and engulf them, as if to drown the two in despair. Each step that Dick took was filled with strain, like it hurt to walk. The gait was unsettling; the teen had started to assume the worst. By the time they reached the bottom floor Tim was ready to unleash a string of questions at his brother. Dick turned to him; standing with his arms crossed firmly, one hand running through his hair after a moment.<p>

Tim couldn't resist from blurting out, "Well what's going on?"

"Bruce has to chase down Ara's parents," Dick said, speaking the words like it was more of an admission than a statement. He seemed a lot more tired than he did that morning, and it was only late afternoon. "The place that her escort gave us was abandoned, but there was a message left for Bruce. They told him to hurry and hope he isn't too late."

His heart sank, as foolish as it was. It was too much to ask for a peaceful closing of this investigation. Not to mention that fleeing was a red flag that they were guilty. Leaving such an eerie note did not shock him; the teen should have been used to cryptic messages at that point. How many had he had to decode in his time just as Robin? He put on a thoughtful expression, watching Dick with calculating eyes. "What does Bruce think about that?"

"He's taking it as a threat," Dick explained, then unceremoniously fell into the computer chair. His hand lifted and rubbed at his temple, a crease forming on his forehead. Tim couldn't tell whether he was frustrated, exhausted, or completely done with the search. Maybe he was all three. "Everyone needs to stick together."

"Does he even know where to look?" Tim disguised his uneasiness with interest. Though he had known deep down that this would end badly, he couldn't help but hope that it would be a false alarm. His feelings were childish; the desire to deny that any of this was going on overtook him. Ara was more than what she was ever raised to be—making her an outcast didn't appeal to his conscience. He was still giving her a chance, but it seemed like some sort of secret would be coming out soon, and he wasn't sure that he wanted to hear it.

"It's Bruce," his brother replied, raising an eyebrow, "When doesn't he have a plan?"

That was very true, yet Tim wasn't totally convinced that everything was under control. His eyes flicked to the computer screen like it would hold all the answers. It didn't, of course, but it was easier to stare at that than to look directly at Dick. "So what do you want to do? Go on lockdown?"

"No," Dick answered, breathing out a stream of air through his teeth like a sigh he was trying to withhold. "We'll act as normal. But no patrolling for anybody. We are staying inside the manor unless we absolutely have to leave."

Tim nodded mutely, and his brother shook his head, "We should have figured that they'd know we were coming for them."

"What about Ara?" Tim asked, his voice almost issuing a challenge. For once he wanted to take Damian's side; it was wrong to keep this from the boy, it was wrong to blame Ara and not give her a chance. "Are you going to persecute her now? It's obvious her parents are in on something but—"

"I'm not going to do anything to her," Dick cut him off, leveling his gaze on the teen. "It's not Ara's fault; I understand that. But she's here. The only thing I can do until we have any real, solid proof is to keep an even closer eye on her."

Tim was positive that was the best answer he was going to get out of his brother. Convincing the older man of anything else, he had no doubt, would not work. There was not enough time, and certainly the situation wasn't helping. All he could do was hope that everything worked out, or else they were in for even more problems. He said quietly, "This is all so _wrong._"

"I know," Dick replied, and lifted his tired, shadowed eyes to lock with Tim's. "Believe me, I know."

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><p>He clenched his teeth so hard that they should have cracked. Damian, in his crouched position in the darkness of the stairs, could see nothing but red. They had been investigating Ara <em>behind his back<em>? When he had asked them countless times to just put a little trust in him? His heart seemed to turn ice cold as he glared down at the two older boys in the cave, wanting to jump out and scream at the top of his lungs. They discussed his business as if they were speaking of the weather.

Never in his life had he ever been so emotionally hurt.

The red he was seeing became a blur. Before the tears could fall Damian reached up and swiped them away with his arm, taking in a breath to force them down his throat. There would be no tears shed for them, those traitors. His own father had kept this hidden, and Grayson! Even Drake had stooped low in not telling him of this betrayal happening. Damian rose, slowly so that he would not be heard, and disappeared back inside the manor, his pulse loud in his ears. Up the stairs he bounded, taking them two at a time until he reached his bedroom.

He strode to the closet, yanking the door open and shoving clothes aside. Every time he did the distant sound of snapping threads barely reached his hearing above the roar of pounding blood in his ears. These people that dared to call him family, that had coaxed him into believing that he had a place in this Godforsaken city; they were liars. They didn't trust him. Gritting his teeth and letting out an animalistic growl, Damian shoved all his belongings aside and grabbed the outfit he had been searching for.

All of them, even Pennyworth, assumed that Damian had gotten rid of these clothes. Yet he'd secretly held onto them just in case they'd be needed. Shedding the clothes he was wearing he pulled on the black gear he'd hidden, turning to face himself in the mirror. Assassin clothes; they fit him perfectly and at the same time they felt awkward. This was the outfit that he'd come to Gotham in; they were tighter on him since he'd grown but he could still fit into the clothing.

"Damian?" He turned to address the voice, finding Ara standing in the doorway. Her gaze questioned him, eyes reflecting astonishment but hesitance. There was a kindness to her that was more prominent than ever, and it caused him to scowl. They had corrupted her; he hated them for it.

She came into the room; the few steps that she took to enter were careful and smooth; without faltering at all. It was hard to tell that she was even remotely surprised at the sight. "What are you doing?"

"I finally understand," he said, taking a step towards her, "what I didn't before. I do not belong here, Ara. And neither do you."

The girl looked at him, her expression bordering on confusion. "I did not think that you'd have such a realization."

"In light of recent events," Damian said bitterly, "I've made the decision. We will not remain here."

If she had hesitated a moment longer, then Damian would have called her out on it. Ara luckily answered in time, though in her eyes was an emotion he didn't quite understand. Disappointment? Worry? "Where will we go?"

"To the League of Assassins," he declared, raising his head up, forcing himself to sound prideful. "It is foolish of us to avoid our destiny. We were born to be assassins, like you said. There is only one place for us to go, and that is home."

Spinning on his heel, the boy went back towards the closet. He dug out the sword, which had become buried under a pile of clothes, and attached it to the belt around his waist. From the corner of his eye he could see Ara watching, though her expression was blank. Damian crammed his foot into his old boots; annoyance filled him when he realized that his feet had grown since he'd worn them last. But he'd make it work; he would not return home dressed as Robin.

He looked to the girl and said firmly, "We will leave at sunset."

If he had been paying more attention, he would have seen her eyes sadden. The boy would have noticed how her shoulders ever so slightly fell, how guilt seemed to catch her in its grip. Damian was so resolved that none of this made any mark on him. He just waited for an answer, clutching the hilt of his sword like he could squeeze out his anger.

"Yes, Damian," Ara replied after the short pause, and he could have sworn that her voice was quieter than usual. "Let's return home."

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><p>On the other side of the world, night had taken over hours ago. Bruce's eyes were tired of pouring over the map in front of him, but he couldn't bring himself to stop. All day he'd traveled from town to town, trying to get information from anyone that he was able to come across. He'd had no luck as he questioned them; no one was able to give him anything worth using to find Ara's parents. Frustrated and tired, he'd taken up monitoring the streets of the town he was currently in, able to stop a few crimes throughout the night.<p>

One in particular was the key to his hopeful success. He'd chased down the thief who had infiltrated a house and stole anything of worth. Batman had been able to corner him after he'd hopped a fence, tossing a batarang. The bag that he was carrying had split open and then contents fell out, causing the man to stop. As he came closer he could see that the thief was young, only in his twenties, but the scowl made him seem a lot older. It was as Batman was handcuffing the man that he saw the tattoo on the inside of his wrist; a fist with an X crossed over it.

"The Silent Hand," Batman had said sternly, his deep voice startling the thief. "What do you know?"

"I'm a new member," the man replied hurriedly, his accent thick, yet Batman was able to understand what he was saying. "I haven't been involved long."

"Where are they?" Batman had questioned, "Where are the leaders?"

The man swallowed, his eyes were wide and shining in the dark. Batman could tell the difference between his fears; it was not that the man was afraid of the black clad hero in front of him. Instead he was afraid to talk, rightfully so. The Silent Hand didn't seem like an organization where traitors were left with simply a warning not to betray them again. Batman took a hold of his collar, yanking him forwards, and the man quickly answered, "I can give you directions!"

That had led to Batman getting yet another supposed placed of residence. This one he was more confident in; it was situated in the center of a valley, in a remote location. From all of Batman's resources available, he was able to gather that it was secluded, private, and secret for sure. This was the best bet that the Dark Knight had. He looked up from the map and turned his gaze to the window as he sat inside his plane. Dawn would be rising soon.

He'd make his move then.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Reviews are wonderful things; they make me grin evilly and want to write more and more. That being said, thank you to all who have reviewed, followed, and given this story a favorite! They truly make me happy every time I see one and I am forever grateful for the support :)**

**This was an interesting chapter to write, as I enjoy subtly hinting at future things. I hope you all enjoy! Please let me know your thoughts!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own DC Comics.  
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><p>The sky had morphed from blue to the orange and gold of sunset. Most would find it beautiful, especially from the view that Wayne Manor provided. Damian, however, saw it as his blazing anger taking form across the vastness of the landscape; his signal fire to go. In his hand he gripped a set of keys that he'd been able to retrieve; a car was needed if he was ever going to put enough distance between himself and the manor. And within a time limit as well; Grayson and Drake were sure to be suiting up to go on patrol soon. He had barely an hour or so to get away.<p>

Pennyworth had not seen him slip out the front door; it was a reasonable way to leave. Beside him was Ara, who had not said a word since she had agreed that they would be going. She had only answered his questions with a nod or shake of the head, not that it had bothered Damian. They were one step closer to leaving, and that was all he wanted. The ten year old headed to the garage where Grayson's car was situated outside—Damian was feeling spiteful enough that he had no ill feelings about taking the thing away from the older man.

A smirk twitched onto his face, but it was full of bitterness and rage. To Hell with the manor, to Hell with his so called family; he didn't care anymore. He could set fire to the entire place and it wouldn't even bother him…but he wasn't going to do that. Forcing his jaw to unclench before he chipped a tooth, Damian started towards the car, yanking the door open. He stepped in, about to take a seat when a hand clamped around his wrist and tugged him tightly backwards. "Damian, wait. Please."

He looked over his shoulder, scowling. Ara's gaze was as hard as stone, as if steeling herself against his anger. Distantly he could recall someone telling him that one of her talents had been masking her emotions very well; he could believe that now. She pulled him so that he was standing in the driveway and said, "I do not think that you should do this."

"Tt," Damian replied, glaring. "Is that so, Reign? I didn't expect to hear that from the person that doesn't belong here to begin with."

"I don't," Ara said, her gaze leveling on him. Damian felt as though she were staring right through him, able to see everything. "But the son of Batman does."

He ripped his arm from her grasp, barring his teeth in anger. "That means nothing! They have betrayed me, never once trusting my word! I am the son of the World's Greatest Liar!"

Ara opened her mouth to reply, but Damian cut her off, pointing at her and taking a step closer. "How can you stand here and defend them when they have never respected or trusted you?"

"Because they had the right not to," Ara said, her voice not rising but growing louder and much more assertive. There was no more meekness or obedience to her, and Damian was caught off guard. He felt his expression show his surprise as she said, "And they were wise to do as they have."

Damian took a step back, everything about him hesitant. Suddenly he trusted no one, didn't want to believe anything that he heard. It was all too confusing, too hurtful, too painful to accept. "What are you saying?"

She closed her eyes a moment, and when she opened them again the ferocity was gone. Instead there was her familiar dark gaze, the one that told him nothing; it was only obedient. Her voice, however, was strong and almost demanding. "There are things that I have not said; secrets that I have kept. Before you make a decision, you must hear them. And so must your brothers."

"I will not speak with them," Damian replied, shaking his head once in protest. "I trust that you—"

"And I thank you for your trust," Ara said, and she seemed surprised that she had actually cut Damian off midsentence. It was something that he couldn't remember her ever doing. "But not everything is as it seems. I know you have learned that."

She was right, but he didn't want to admit it. The last thing he wanted to do was to face his brothers when he was so close to escape. Damian wanted to run as far as he could, as far away from the hurt as he possibly could. Ara stood straight, seeming tall and filled with authority, and Damian felt himself succumbing to it. He didn't want there to be any secrets anymore. The truth could be the security that he needed; maybe it would help him to grasp at something other than anger.

"Damian?" He inwardly swore as he heard the voice, but kept his eyes on Ara.

Of course it would be Drake who would ruin his plans.

But he was cornered with nowhere to go. It wouldn't kill him to hear what Ara had to say.

Hopefully.

"Fine," Damian growled, "but make it quick."

* * *

><p>Dick restrained from letting out a groan of absolute frustration and settled for rubbing his face for the millionth time that week. As Bruce had implied for him to, Dick made the call and prayed that he'd get an answer. In fact he'd called <em>five<em> times, listening to the dial tone, and breathed out a sigh when the automated voicemail was the only voice that responded to him. He'd left only one after his final attempt to reach the cell's owner, and he didn't expect that it would be listened to. Even still, this was just another stress on his mind; as if the fact that the drug cartel had changed hands wasn't enough to send off worry bells in Dick's mind_. Where could he possibly—?_

"Grayson." Dick turned his head, and then the chair as well so that he was positioned facing his younger brother. Damian stood there, arms crossed and glaring straight at him so hard that the older man expected to burst into flames and light up the entire cave. Thankfully he didn't.

Tim stood a little away from him, eyebrows knit together. Standing separate from Damian, which was unusual to see, was Ara. Tim said, hesitantly, "Ara wants to discuss something with us."

Dick tried to keep his tone civil as he looked to her. "What's that?"

"The reason why I'm here," she replied, and Dick fought to keep his gaze steady. Her voice, normally soft, was strong and loud enough to cause the cave to echo. Briefly he wondered if the subdued, soft spoken Ara was a front, then dismissed his theory and focused on the girl.

"Why are you choosing to tell us this now?" Dick questioned, still inclined to not trust her.

Ara raised her head; she didn't seem ten years old at the moment. There was an air about her that made the girl seem older, taller, stronger. "I have had time to see Damian's life here and those he is around. And I understand now that what I have been told isn't exactly true. I do not want my presence to come between him and his family any longer."

Dick regarded her silently and they locked gazes. She was not masking her emotions, he decided. In her expression he could find nothing but honesty; he wasn't sure how he felt about that. He said simply, "Then tell us the truth."

"I did not come here of my own decision," Ara began, her voice not wavering at all. "I was ordered to come here and convince Damian to come back home and rejoin with the League of Assassins. My presence was supposed to cause a rift between him and his household. I was to remind him of everything he left behind."

She bowed her head, closing her eyes as she spoke. "I believed that Damian had made a mistake coming here. That he had been deceived into leaving behind his old life for all that Gotham held. And so I was alright with drawing him home; I did not care about anything that was here. My goal was to remind him of what it was like to be an assassin and how much more fulfilling it could be."

It was everything that Dick had assumed, and he could have jumped up and declared that he had been right all along. The urge to do that however was quickly burnt out; he was beginning to feel himself lean towards pity. Emotions that he had told himself he would not feel for Ara began to make themselves known, and he kept his tone void of them as best as he could manage. "What changed your mind?"

Ara lifted her head, glancing to Tim. Dick could see the small smile forming on her face as she looked back to him with confidence. "I was shown that my life isn't as justified as I always believed it to be. That perhaps there was more than I thought to Damian's choice. Now I am sure that he should remain here. This is where he belongs."

She turned to Damian, folding her hands in front of her, and then respectively bowed. "I am sorry for deceiving you. Although it was taught me a great deal, and I thank you for that."

Damian stared at her, and Dick was waiting for some sort of explosion. It was customary for Damian to do so after all. But the boy simply sighed and uncrossed his arms. "I was in your position once, and so I am not going to desire to tear you apart like I wish to do to Drake."

"Hey!" Tim called out, and a smirk formed on Damian's face.

The ten year old boy said as Ara straightened up, "I'm glad that I could show you that there are other paths to take in this world. And you have taught me some things as well."

Ara raised her eyebrows, "I have?"

"Indirectly," Damian answered, glancing over at Dick. "I think I understand now why these idiots choose the actions that they do. It is because they care."

Dick smiled wide enough to cause the younger boy to roll his eyes. He held up his hand, "If you dare to give me one of your infernal hugs, Grayson, I will resort to violence."

"Later," Dick promised and then looked to Tim. "I guess we should let Bruce know then?"

"You can call him," Tim answered, shaking his head. "Deal with the wrath of a sidetracked Batman yourself."

* * *

><p>Damian stood back and watched as his two older brothers debated on how to explain to his father that he didn't need to be investigating anymore. Admittedly it was fun to watch them argue and try to form the right sentences before they called in order to diminish Batman's expected response. He was just happy that it wasn't him that had to make the call; at least he hadn't been suggested to be the one yet. Damian smirked to himself; he'd let the fools dance around that bullet.<p>

A tug on his wrist caught his attention, and he looked to his side and allowed Ara to lead him even further away from the two older boys. She faced him, her body angled away from the computer and the other heroes and said lowly, "There is more that I need to tell you, but I felt it best that they did not hear it."

Damian glanced over his shoulder and then nodded, "What is it?"

"I wasn't just the only plan to bring you home," Ara explained. "There was another, and it puts the lives of your family in danger. If I cannot bring you home, then they will give you no reason to remain here."

Damian narrowed his eyes, "Not only are they willing to take out this entire household, but I know that The Silent Hand does not take failure lightly."

"This is not about me," Ara answered firmly, and if there was any fear in her she did not show it. Her own eyes narrowed and locked with his. "I have a three day time limit. If we go now there is time to stop them and maybe bargain to gain your freedom."

Damian gave a short nod, looking once more to his brothers. No, he did not want to involve them. He would have to go with Ara himself and hope that they could handle it together. Looking back to her he said, "Considering the way you were raised, I am surprised that you would be able to break those rules to tell me all of this."

"I am more loyal to you than I ever was to Talia," Ara said confidently. "All my life I associated myself with you, as yours. That will not change no matter what The League or The Silent Hand does or says."

"The devotion is admirable," Damian said, "and I thank you for it. Let's work as a team and save my family."

* * *

><p>Like the last mansion he had visited, the gates were wide open. Batman approached them warily, his eyes sweeping over the walls that wrapped around the house as its defense. There were no guards that he could see, and if there were any they had not yet attacked. He didn't intend to sneak in either; that method was not going to work he was sure. It was against his usual ways, but Batman strode in, heading towards the front door.<p>

The eerie silence put him on edge, though outwardly he didn't show it. If there was any doubt that assassins lived within the walls, it was erased as he made his way across the large yard. Yet there was still no sign of anyone as he approached, and finally stopped on the stairs. Listening did not prove anything to him; there was still no sound. Temptation to sneak in filled him and he almost agreed to it, until at the top of the long staircase the door opened.

He could see the resemblance as soon as his eyes set on the woman. Her hair was long and light brown, her facial expression identical to her daughter's. There was something about it that was not all Ara though; he found the culprit of that as he came out on the balcony above. The man had dark hair, and his eyes were a deep blue while the woman's were so dark they seemed black. The Dark Knight wondered if those genes had somehow mixed together to give Ara her customary eye color; the blue that could seem black in the right lighting.

"I knew that you'd make it, Detective," the woman said, her smile sly. "I'm sure that there is a lot you wish to discuss."


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Fun Fact of the Day: I originally had a goal to have this story be fifteen chapters. I'm very happy that it is going to be more than that, hopefully at least twenty. Hope you guys feel the same! **

**Please let me know what you think. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own DC Comics.**

* * *

><p>Inside the mansion, the entire place was furnished magnificently. There were many skylights, which Batman had not expected; that seemed to him like just asking an enemy to crash in whenever they wanted. All the wood in the house, the banisters, panels, and floors, shone brightly. Ara's mother led him through the household, and from what Batman could see he found the home to be very expanse, with some rooms twice the size that they needed to be. In a sense seeing the mansion was a relief to him; it meant that the girl didn't have a completely horrible childhood.<p>

The Dark Knight was led into a study, where Ara's father was already waiting. He was standing by the window, and turned to face the two when they entered. That was all Batman needed in order to be able to feel the shift of power in the room, though he did not hold all of it. In fact it felt as though both Ara's mother and father held authority equally, sharing it in order to keep a sound organization perfectly in line. As the woman moved towards the desk she motioned to the table in the center of the room. A bottle of wine and cups of tea were positioned on a silver tray, but Batman made no move towards it.

"It is an honor to be in your presence, Detective," the woman said, placing one delicate hand on the desk as she stood beside it. Her posture was perfect, he noted, even though it seemed natural. "We never expected to meet the father of our daughter's fiancée."

They used the term as simple a negotiation, as a technical phrase; like 'male' or 'female'. Batman didn't like the way it sounded, then again he was still not comfortable with the fact that his ten year old son already had such a commitment to begin with. He said, "You mean until now."

She smiled, and there was a sly tinge in it. "Yes, that is so. It is not often that we exchange names, but for this occasion we have agreed on it. I am called Blaine. My husband's name is Kieran."

Kieran came forwards, standing on the opposite side of the desk. He had the sort of watchful expression that Ara possessed, and he set that gaze on Batman easily. "I feel as though pleasantries aren't needed. It would benefit us all to get straight to the point."

There were many questions that he wanted to ask, but most of them weren't ones that he could present, especially as Batman. He said to them, "You don't know what I want?"

"You want to know why Ara was sent to Gotham," Blaine replied, her black eyes seeming to hold a smirk in them. "But since you are a substantial detective, you are sure to have a theory already."

More dancing around the answer; it was starting to grind on Batman's nerves the way it was sure to have been on Dick's. He kept his composure and stated, "Ara was sent to Gotham to lure my son back home. It's the only reason that she'd come. I always expected that the League would want him to return at some point."

Blaine smiled, though there wasn't all warmth to it. "Our daughter is very loyal to Damian. It wouldn't surprise me if she chose to go after him of her own free will. But you are correct, Detective. She was sent to retrieve Damian and convince the boy to take up his position as an assassin once again."

"For assassins," Batman spoke, suspicion rising in his mind. "You're open about your plans."

"Of course," Kieran answered, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Why would we not tell you what Talia wished for you to know?"

"Talia," Batman spoke, and widened his eyes behind his cowl. "Then she knew…"

Blaine smirked, and this time it was with ice in her expression. "Knew you'd seek us out for answers, which would keep you away from Gotham. Coming here, Detective, was your first mistake."

* * *

><p>"I know I said I wouldn't worry," Dick said as he stopped pacing and turned to Tim. "But now I am."<p>

Maybe it was just that Dick was having a bad day, but his attempts to contact Bruce ended up being in vain. The first time he hadn't received an answer the hero had brushed it off, ignoring the pressure that suddenly fell on his chest. Bruce rarely missed the first call, if ever. So he had tried again, telling himself that his father was sure to respond to that one. But no one picked up the call. Starting to feel frantic, he'd tried once more before Tim stepped in and forced Dick away from the computer.

Tim sat with his elbows on the desk, head resting on his clasped hands. The teen was only half paying attention to him; Dick knew when his brother was deep in thought. Dick took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Okay, okay. Maybe he's found something. Or he's in the middle of a conversation. Or—"

"Dick," Tim spun the chair around so that he could see his older brother. "I'm sure everything is fine. If it weren't, Bruce would find a way to let us know."

"The fact that he's investigating a criminal organization that we know nothing about doesn't reassure me of that." Dick was sure he was being ridiculous, but he couldn't help it. His paranoia was justified by all the years that he worked side by side with the Bat and all the crazy criminal plots he'd had to endure. Any of the scenarios he had been a witness to that filled his mind put him further on edge. Was it so hard for someone to just answer the phone?

There was a flash in Tim's eyes before the teen sighed and shook his head. Dick knew what he was thinking; he still wasn't trusting Ara, despite her coming clean. While the older man was sure that Tim understood that changing his mind in an instant wasn't going to happen, it no doubt bothered him. For the time being Dick could ignore the actions, but he eventually was going to have to swallow his pride and admit that giving Ara a chance wouldn't be so bad. He'd deal with that after everyone was home under one roof.

"If we don't hear from Bruce in the next few hours we'll try again," Tim suggested. "We're already going to be in trouble for sending him on a chase when we have the answers right here."

Dick rubbed the back of his neck, glancing about the cave. It wasn't like he was eager to get a lecture or even the cold attitude from Bruce. He'd really appreciate some sort of sign from him, however. From his peripheral vision he could see a form standing in the doorway at the entrance of the cave and turned to face them. "Everything alright, Alfred?"

The butler glanced around the cave and then inquired with a concerned tone. "Yes, everything is fine. But where are Master Damian and Miss Ara?"

"You mean they're not upstairs?" Dick said, hearing Tim jump up from the computer chair behind him. The two had disappeared, but both of the boys had assumed they'd gone out of the cave and that was it. There wasn't a reason to be suspicious.

Alfred answered, "No, sir. They're nowhere in the manor."

Muttering a curse that was sure to get him lectured later, Dick spun around to face Tim. The teen said to him, "What could they possibly be up to now?"

"We're about to find out," Dick replied, nodding towards the back of the cave. "Suit up. I have a feeling it's going to be a long night."

* * *

><p>Damian ended up taking Grayson's car anyways, though this time it was without spite. He liked to think of it as borrowing, since any of his own vehicles couldn't be retrieved with his brothers in the cave. Somehow he'd managed to grab the Robin costume without anyone noticing, and though he wouldn't say it out loud it felt so much better to be in his uniform again. He liked it better that way, though he was starting to wish that Ara had another fighting outfit other than customary black.<p>

The windows of the car were down, and Ara was leaning out the window, her eyes narrowed. Damian should have mentioned that it was dangerous, but he trusted that she wouldn't fall or anything else. Over her shoulder she called, "Is it necessary to be going so fast?"

True, he was speeding down the streets of Gotham like he owned them. Normally he wouldn't tolerate anyone questioning his driving skills, yet the girl was one exception that he would make. He called back, "They'll ticket the car, not me. See anything yet?"

"No," she answered and ducked back inside, her hair whipping around her face do to the wind. "But we are far enough from the manor. We should go from here on foot."

"A reasonable idea," Damian answered. Ditching the car saddened him, but it had to be done. He made a sharp turn, earning several honks from angry drivers, and guided the vehicle into a wide alleyway. Most likely it would be stolen or vandalized, but that was nothing that Damian could help. He was too busy trying to save his family.

The two of them jumped out of the car, swiftly making their way down the alley. Ara tended to stick to the shadows and Damian followed her, for once not taking the lead. He liked how she knew his movements and that they didn't have to communicate to know what the other was up to; body language said it all. So he knew when he had to scale the side of the closest building and join her on the roof as she overlooked the streets. "I could contact Talia and tell her I'm bringing you to her. But I am afraid of what she'll do when she finds out that you do not intend to stay."

"Telling my mother will do nothing," Damian agreed. "We need to face her in person."

Ara pointed to her side, and Damian followed the direction with his gaze. "My escorts were captured by Nightwing, as far as I am aware. But the boat that I came on should still be stationed where we left it. We'll have to get to the river and navigate from there ourselves."

"I take it my mother is not here or home," Damian mused as they leapt from the building. He caught her around the waist and shot his grappling, swinging them both to the ground safely.

Once their feet touched the ground, Ara did not miss a beat as they moves swiftly through the night. "No," the girl replied, her dark eyes flicking all across the streets in suspicion. "She is currently aboard a ship that the League took captive for their leisure. The reasoning was that it was being used as transportation for illegal substances."

"You do not sound convinced," Damian noted as they slipped easily around the corner of the building, darting for the next alleyway.

Ara's eyes narrowed a little as she said, not without coldness, "I cannot trust everything I hear anymore."

Damian was about to reply when an explosion filled his ears. It rocked the ground underneath of him and out of pure instinct he lunged at Ara, sending them both rolling across the sidewalk and hitting against the nearby building. Glaring, he raised his head to see a nearby shop alight with flames. The glass had shattered all into the street, and thieves were taking what they could salvage from inside the windows. He quickly got to his feet, Ara in tow, and stopped himself from running forwards. He could see the two forms of costumed heroes coming close, dashing across the rooftops.

"They can handle it," Damian said, motioning with his hand for them to run. "Let's go!"

Not daring to look back, the two of them bolted away, putting considerable distance between themselves and the explosion sight. Sirens wailed behind them, flashing lights painting red and blue across them. Ara disappeared behind a building and Damian followed after, doing his best to stay out of sight. They stayed there until the loud cry of police faded, and then peeled themselves off the building. Damian said to her, "I think we ought to—"

His plan of action didn't get the chance to go into effect. The back door of the building was kicked open, and out came men three times their size. Some were dressed better than others, few had gold jewelry on their hands and hanging from their necks. All of them, however, were armed, and didn't strike Damian as being very merciful. Gritting his teeth he backed into the center of the free space as the men circled around them, Ara beside him. They both stood ready, and the one man laughed, "Batman left his little sidekick alone tonight? Going on a play date with your friend?"

"State your business," Damian said firmly, already knowing they were up to no good.

"Nothing that involves you," another man called out, causing all of the criminals to grin.

"Now boys," the first man said, holding up his hand. "I see this as a well earned opportunity. It's not often that we get to have target practice."

Damian clenched his teeth together, standing tall. The men raised their guns, aiming them at the two, and beside him Ara tensed, ready to spring forwards. Damian waited for the pull of a trigger, the chance to spring forwards. Any small idea that was formulating in his mind disappeared as he saw an object come vaulting towards them, sparking at the ends. He and Ara both saw it at the same time and reacted, shielding their eyes and covering their ears.

Even from behind closed eyelids Damian could see the flash, though it wasn't nearly as blinding. The sound was muffled by his gloved hands, yet his senses were still thrown off a bit. He looked up to find the culprit and scoffed, not the least bit surprised to find them poised on the roof, gun drawn and pointed. He fired, the bullets forcing the criminals to scatter. Damian and Ara moved backwards against the building as the thugs took off, stumbling and yelling curses.

Damian then moved out and looked back towards the roof, glaring as the man called down in a gruff voice that was still audible through the helmet. "Heard you got benched, kid. Shouldn't you be under house arrest?"

"Tt," Damian scoffed, glaring up at him. "How nice of you to show up, Todd."


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: I don't have much to say about this chapter other than I am glad to finally have Jason make an appearance. I didn't think it was right to have all but one brother not influence Damian's choices. Please let me know what you think! Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own DC Comics.**

* * *

><p>"Breaking rules already," Jason, in the guise of the Red Hood, mused as he descended the roof and touched down on the ground. His gun was slipped back into its holster, so smoothly and casually that it reminded the ten year old Robin how he used to effortlessly sheath his sword. Hood came over to the two as he said, "I thought that was my aggravating habit."<p>

Damian half glared, though there wasn't much to it. In truth he'd always felt like he was a parallel to Jason, though he didn't want to take the same path and disappoint his father. The two boys hadn't had too much interaction, but they had a decent relationship. Plus he was secretly glad to see the man after such a long while. "I'm four times the Robin that you ever were. Don't compare yourself to me."

Hood gave a snort and possibly a roll of his eyes; Damian couldn't see past the helmet over his face. "Sure thing," the older man answered, and the smirk that was surely on his lips was in his tone as he asked, "So what are you in trouble for?"

"I'm not in any," Damian lied, which would have been convincing if he wasn't trying to tell it to one of Batman's sons. "Where did you come up with that absurd idea?"

"Only the guilty run from the scene of the crime," Hood commented, gesturing carelessly towards the street. "And Robin doesn't miss out on the action unless he's hoping to avoid Nightwing or the Replacement."

Damian gritted his teeth and turned his face to the side, crossing his arms. Leave it to Hood to know the streets better than him; to be able to keep his eyes on all the happenings. It wasn't surprising that he'd seen the ordeal with them running from the two older heroes, but it was indeed aggravating. Keeping a secret in Gotham was ridiculously difficult. "It's none of your concern."

Hood either didn't hear the comment or chose to ignore it. The man looked instead to Ara, seeming to give her a once over before asking, "Who's the other kid?"

Damian glanced to Ara, who had her dark eyes on Jason. There was a careful feeling to her gaze, the younger boy noted. His mother had probably informed her on the second Robin as well as the rest of them, and now the girl was trying to deduct what she could for herself. Damian dropped his arms and said, "A friend. Her name is Ara."

"Friendly assassin?" Hood said, scoffing. "That's new. What is Robin doing running from home with a girl? Shouldn't that wait until you're a teenager?"

If there was a retort that he wanted to say, Damian didn't get the chance as Ara said. "I beg your pardon, but we don't have time to talk. I believe that you know a great deal about not being caught by anyone associated with Batman. We cannot afford to be at the moment."

Unintentionally, Damian felt himself hold his breath. Jason had a temper that could explode at any time, especially when others claimed to know anything about him or his life. He was sure that Hood and Ara were locked in a staring battle, trying to see something within the other. Ara didn't back down to the challenge; most people would flee as soon as they laid eyes on the Red Hood. Doing this was basically asking to be given a slow, painful death. But finally Hood suggested, "You can hide at my place for a while. Until Nightwing and Red Robin lose your trail."

Damian hissed, "Why would we want to take shelter at your residence?"

"It's the last place that either of them would think to look, let alone assume." Hood replied easily, and Damian bit back a string of words that he wanted to say. Though he had a point, hiding was not something that the boy wanted. They had limited time, and wasting it chatting was not in their best interests. Still, getting caught wasn't either.

They didn't need that setback. With a frustrated sigh Damian muttered, "Fine. But we won't stay for long."

* * *

><p>"What has she done?" Batman demanded, his voice taking on a threatening and demanding tone. The mood had shifted, and he wasn't in the mood for negotiations. If these people wouldn't tell him what was happening to his family, then he would force the answers out of them himself, regardless of who they were. The fatherly instincts that he'd developed over the years were starting to cloud his mentality of the Dark Knight.<p>

"As of yet," Kieran said while picking up a glass of wine from the table, "nothing. The last we heard was that Ara was instructed to bring Damian home in the next three days. Or else Talia would force Damian to return."

"How?" The one word was dark enough to strike fear into any criminal, yet the two adults regarded him with casualty.

Blaine walked over to where a globe rested on another table and spun it slowly, her finger landing on where Gotham City resided. As she spoke she traced the path that Batman took to get to them, as if knowing his every single move. "We don't know everything, Detective. It is not our concern. Talia, however, mentioned that she would uproot everything that Damian had in Gotham so that he would have nothing there. In essence, she will destroy anyone that is dear to you and him."

"She's that determined," Batman said, more to himself. It was hard to keep his fists from clenching at his sides; Batman wasn't supposed to show emotion. But remaining completely dense was difficult with the knowledge that his sons' lives were on the line.

"Damian is her son," Kieran replied, swirling the glass absently. "And holds power in the palm of his hand. She doesn't want to lose that. Without Damian, The League has no one to turn to when Ra's eventually falls from his leadership, along with his life. She needs him back."

"And what about your own daughter?" Batman couldn't help but ask, feeling like the conversation was so political that there were no true feelings towards the children at all.

"One thing you should understand about The Silent Hand," Kieran said, taking a sip of his drink before continuing, "is that our members are free to go where they please, but always remain loyal. We do not keep a tight leash, but when their Masters will for them to return then they will with absolute certainty. Ara knows her place. She also knows the consequences for not obeying us."

"Fear is the best control," Blaine added, taking her hand from the globe and regarding Batman with a hard look. "It keeps everyone in line and makes them more aware of their choices. We use fear to remind our members of where they stand and how quickly their lives can be extinguished should they make a wrong move. Would you rather lose anyone by stupidity instead of teaching them to fear their actions?"

Batman could remember a certain day years ago that involved a warehouse in flames and digging up the body of a son that he cared for deeply. Maybe if he had taught him to fear then it wouldn't have happened. But then his son, his sons, would not have been who they were now. They would not live their lives truly. He didn't want that for them. Batman said, "I'm not here to dissuade you of how you treat your organization. I only came for answers to my questions."

"Now you have them," Blaine said, "so what will you do?"

"Go back to my city," Batman answered curtly. There was more that he could say; he could criticize them for how they treated their child, he could punish them for inflicting fear on everyone. But it wasn't anything that he could change. The Dark Knight had other things to do; like saving his family.

He walked out and didn't bother to see their expressions as he did.

* * *

><p>Despite the fact that Jason's apartment smelled like smoke and was falling apart, it wasn't that bad of a place. Damian sat perched on a chair in the kitchen, while Ara had seated herself on the counter. He didn't know whether she'd picked it because it was a good vantage point or if she just didn't trust that the rickety old chairs would hold her up. Not that it mattered; Jason hadn't said a word about it. The man had even taken off his helmet, though not the red domino mask that was over his eyes.<p>

"Alright," he said, eyeing the two of them. "What are you up to?"

"I have no reason to inform you of that," Damian said sharply, suddenly wishing that he had not given in to the request for them to come.

"I still have to return Dick's call," Jason warned, "so I could just mention that you're here."

Ara spoke up, not allowing Damian to answer. "We are heading to meet with Talia Al Ghul. She has threatened to harm everyone if Damian does not return home."

"I see," Jason said, gesturing to Damian, "and of course you didn't tell Golden Boy and Replacement or else they'd follow."

"Thanks for sharing your intellect," the ten year old boy shot back.

For a moment Jason just stared at him, and then with a sigh he rolled his eyes. "Are you going to listen to some advice from me or ignore it?"

"Depends on what you have to say," Damian said, setting his gaze on Jason skeptically.

Jason pointed at him, "Quit being ungrateful. And I don't mean to me, I don't care what you think. But to the rest of them, better start appreciating their hospitality. Bruce didn't take you in because he felt he had to, he did because he wanted to. And I know why you're acting like a little brat; you think that you know everything and that they're just in your way."

Damian jumped off the chair, "Why do you think—?"

"That I know you? I was in your position," Jason narrowed his eyes, his voice becoming sterner. "I acted impulsively and we all understand what happened after that. I thought I knew everything, but I didn't. It didn't matter what I thought was unfair; it was done to protect me. If you go off on your own now, Damian, you could end up exactly how I did. And I don't think there's any Lazarus Pit around here without the risk of completely rotting your brain."

He wanted to scream at Jason, but the words were stuck in his throat. Damian quietly slumped into the chair once more and mumbled, "You were a fool. I am not."

"I'm right," Jason answered, running a hand through his hair. "I wouldn't say this if I wanted to see you end up like me. And I don't. So get your act together, kid. You've got family here."

Damian looked at him, his hands clenched in his lap. "If I do nothing, I'll lose it. This is a war of my own making, Todd. I have to end it."

"To be fair," Ara said softly, "I am just as much to blame."

"Then get help," Jason said, looking between them, "Two ten year olds can't save the world, and that's basically what's trying to be accomplished. So knock it off."

Yelling could be heard from outside, a group of men. They screamed threats and there was painful calling out along with curses that rang off the walls. Jason sighed, "I'm going to go handle this. Think about what I've said."

He didn't bother to grab his helmet and went out the door with just his domino mask on. Both Ara and Damian watched him go, staring at the closed door for a few seconds after it shut. Then Ara spoke up, "He has a point. This is dangerous, but danger is something we have been exposed to since we were born."

"It's different when there are those who care about you," Damian said, but then shook his head. "I cannot tell Grayson or Drake. If I must sacrifice myself for them, then that's what will have to happen."

"I will not allow you to," Ara said strongly. It was the most defiant he'd ever heard from her. "You will have freedom and be with your family."

A shadow of a smile fell onto Damian's face, but quickly disappeared. "We won't discover if that is true here. Let's go."

She hopped off the counter, "Disobeying your family has become a habit."

"I never have listened," Damian replied, "and now is not the time to start."

They slipped out of the apartment and fled, leaving Jason far behind them.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: I feel like this story has really allowed me to get to know Damian's character, which before I barely knew how to represent. If last chapter wasn't eventful, I hope this makes up for it. Please let me know what you think! Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own DC Comics.**

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><p>Normally Nightwing had a lot of patience when it came to crime fighting. That night not so much; Damian missing probably had something to do with his lack of tolerance. In fact when he saw the sight of the thugs stealing whatever they could fish out of the store window, trotting over broken glass and debris, he had sighed in complete frustration. It was hard to not let it get the best of him, but it was Batman's code that kept him in control. They weren't difficult to subdue; he had fought without much thought. His mind was too preoccupied with wondering just where his youngest brother had gone and if he was alright.<p>

Rounding up the criminals that had broken into the store hadn't taken that much of his time, but he'd practically ushered them into the police cars himself and rushed through a report with the officers. They'd given him odd looks, pausing in their questioning which only set Nightwing more on the road to impatience. Red Robin had been a major help with keeping him from darting from the scene too early, and he had been seriously considering the option. Yet he maintained as much composure as possible; no one else could know that something was wrong, especially if someone realized Robin was roaming the streets.

_When he should be at home, _Nightwing thought as they quickly left the scene at the first opportunity. He swung on his grappling, each arc that he created in the air more distance that he could cover. Still, the aerial view didn't give him much hope; there was no sight of Damian.

"_We need a strategy," _Red Robin's voice said through the com; it was hard to hear him over the wind as they swung. His black and red form glided through the sky and landed on the nearest rooftop.

Nightwing followed suit, dropping beside him, sweeping a hand through his black hair. His masked eyes squinted in concentration, and he gnawed on his bottom lip. "The crime just made us lose more time. He could be anywhere right now and we don't even have a lead."

"Well we _would_," Red Robin replied, annoyance in his tone, "if he hadn't ripped out his tracker. Or turned off his com. Or completely ignored any of the safety precautions."

"So in other words, if he wasn't being Damian," Nightwing muttered and rubbed at his temples. It took everything he had to not pace or start doing any kind of acrobatics to help him think.

Red Robin suggested, "Should we split up? We might cover more ground."

"And then if they are in trouble and one of us needs back up, the other is on the other side of the city." Nightwing shook his head. "We need to stay together."

There just weren't enough of them to search all of Gotham. He wanted to bury his face in his hands due to the frustration. Nightwing didn't even have a starting point to go from; Damian was smart enough to not go where someone would first look to find him. Plus his agendas were always secret, and this time the only link they had was Ara. The girl didn't even know her way around Gotham as far as Nightwing knew. So where could they possibly—

"Lose something?" A voice called, and then a familiar form dropped down onto the roof. Both Red Robin and Nightwing turned, watching as the man in the domino mask, absent of his helmet, came over and then stopped. He kept a good distance between them and him. "Because I think I accidently came across it."

"Jason!" Nightwing forgot that they shouldn't use real names in the field, and breathed a sigh of pure relief. Even the tensions in his posture seemed to diminish some. He looked his brother up and down, assessing him to make sure he was alright, and then said. "You didn't answer my call."

"Call_s_," the Red Hood emphasized, a customary glare coming onto his face. There wasn't as much menace as usual, and either way Nightwing just disregarded it. "I have other important things to do other than sit around and chat."

Red Robin spoke up, inclining his head slightly. "Sorry that when the drug cartel switches hands we start to get concerned."

Hood sniffed, a disgusted expression lasting only momentarily. "Bastards thought they could take over my turf. I've gained it back, punished those who needed it, the gist. It won't be happening again."

The temptation to say something about the behavior entered Nightwing's mind, but he dismissed it. Now was not the time to be getting into that argument with his brother. Red Robin seemed to understand that they were drifting from the real matter at hand and prompted the older man, "You've seen Damian?"

"I may have told him that he could hide out in my place," Hood said, and before Nightwing could react in any negative way his brother launched into explanation. All the while Nightwing stood listening; relieved that they were alright but not happy that once again the child had disappeared into the night. Hood kept him from sinking into further despair by saying, "But I have an idea of where they are. The thugs that brought the girl here came by boat."

"You know where it is?" Red Robin voiced the hope before Nightwing could.

"Generally," Hood answered with a shrug, "I may or may not have been planning to turn it to scrap."

Nightwing's lips twitched, fighting back a smile. "Normally I'd advise against that, but this time I'll ask you to wait until we have them back before you do."

Watching Hood's eyebrows raise in surprise was more entertaining that Nightwing had expected. "Big brother telling me it's okay to vandalize things?"

"Just this once," Nightwing assured him, seeing Red Robin shake his head out of the corner of his eye. If he had anything to say, he kept quiet about it.

Hood grinned, "My lucky day."

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><p>It would be a lie if Damian said that he was totally sure that they would make it to the boat without interference. As they rushed across Gotham, hitching rides on the backs of trucks and using the shadows of alleyways as cover, the current Robin had a voice in the back of his head warning him to be on alert constantly. He was expecting that Grayson would drop from the sky in front of them, or that Drake would appear behind the two and corner them. Then they would be hauled back to the manor and their rescue mission, to a certain degree, wouldn't happen.<p>

Somehow they made it without further incident to the river, where the boat was docked, bobbing in the water as the current moved underneath it. Damian took the moment to catch his breath, and glanced over his shoulder. Behind him there was no one, not any of his brothers or father; just the hum of the city. He wondered when he'd be back, if he'd be back, to this life that he had become accustomed to. Never had his desire to stay been so strong.

"You are worried," Ara noted, following his gaze. She was not afraid of voicing her opinion as much as she used to be, and Damian was actually relieved by that.

"Not so much for my sake," he replied. "I'm more concerned for my family."

"They will be alright," she said, her voice strong, and Damian looked to her as she continued, "I will not let harm come to them."

He gave her a short, firm nod; there was nothing in him that doubted her words. Eyes scanning one more time over Gotham, Damian turned his back to the city and headed towards the boat, Ara at his side. The gangplank wasn't down, but that wasn't discouraging. One grappling swing later and both Damian and Ara had landed on the deck, their feet barely making a sound. Damian slowly rose up, and became alert, body tensing. Something didn't feel right to him, though he wasn't sure what it was. Ara too, with her hardened gaze, seemed to sense that the atmosphere was off.

The girl motioned towards the controls for the ship and they made their way across the deck. Ara reached out, about to set the boat on course when suddenly black clad figures flooded the boat. Damian processed quickly enough, as he spun around to see them siege the whole deck, that they were not members of the Silent Hand. The getup was too familiar to him; they were members of the League. Gritting his teeth he called out, "We're too late!"

Either his mother had been lying about the three day limit, or there was something else going on. It didn't matter at the moment; he had to fight either way. Damian drew his sword, promising himself that he would find a different method of choice once he settled things with his mother, and faced off with the League members. He leapt, a courageous and challenging roar leaving him, bringing his sword down on the men. They disbanded briefly, and then altogether jumped upon Damian, trying to overwhelm the boy. But his senses were heightened, and he deflected their blows only to give back twice as much.

They had blades as well, and as they clashed with his the metal rang in his ears. Damian clenched his jaw, bringing his sword down into the deck and using it to support his weight as he jumped up, slamming his feet into the nearest opponent. It created a space for him to get through, and he swiftly rolled through it to escape the closing circle that was trying to swallow him. He could see Ara, springing like a tiger onto her enemies and escaping just before they could grab a hold of her. No one acted surprised that they were fighting back.

Damian fell back on using his fists, driving them hard into the skulls of those who came his way. His arm came down, cracking bones; collarbones and ribs, tossing them men carelessly off of him. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, his feet burying into guts and causing his enemies to double over. Everything seemed to be in his favor, until a blow came to his back and sent him skidding across the deck, ramming into the side of the boat. A half groan, half growl left him, and Damian stumbled onto his feet only to have a fist land a hit to his stomach.

He hit the deck once more, sprawled out and saw black spots in his vision. Blinking rapidly, the boy watched as the men started to retreat. At first he thought it was a good thing, until he saw that Ara was being restrained and dragged towards the edge of the boat. Damian's heart dropped, then rage filled him and he bolted, reaching out his hand to grab a hold of her, "No!"

"Damian!" She called, reaching out her arm as well. He almost reached her, their finger tips barely an inch apart, when a fist buried into a nerve point at the back of his neck. He went numb and dropped to the deck, hearing distant shouts of "Robin!"

Ara was pulled over the deck, and Damian's vision went black. It seemed like in an instant he was awake, though his body ached and his head was pounding. Someone grabbed a hold of him; there was a gruff order of, "Run!"

His vision was blurry, but he could make out the black and blue of Grayson as he jumped with him off the boat. The red and black of Drake and leather jacket that belonged to Todd all symbolized his brothers, and they landed on the ground and continued to run. Damian was about to demand he be released, but the sound of an explosion cut him off and he felt Grayson get blown off his feet. Damian went flying, catching himself as much as he could but still ending up on the ground.

He blinked, seeing the smoke rise up from the ship, flames spewing angrily from it. The boat crackled, popped, and fell to pieces as it melted from the heat of the fire. Damian tried to get up, but his throbbing head wouldn't let him. He stared at the flames, cursing under his breath and swearing revenge as his vision blurred and the boat became a black and orange swirl of color.

Then the orange disappeared and all he saw was black.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: I'm very sorry that I have not updated in a while. School has been tough on me and I haven't had the time or inspiration to write. I am going to finish this story for sure, and will update others as well. Most likely though it won't be as quickly as I used to. Thank you to everyone who is continuing to read and support my stories!**

**I've been writing this chapter in little pieces for a while, so I'm not too happy with it. But I hope that you all find it to be enjoyable. Please let me know your thoughts.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own DC Comics.**

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><p>Typically, waking up from injury for the young Robin meant that he would awaken slowly thanks to drug induced sleep. This time, however, there was nothing in his system to slow him. Damian leapt from his sleep as if his body had only been paused and he was entering the fight again. He shot straight up, adrenaline flying through his veins and setting his blood on fire. For a second he was alright; then soreness attacked his muscles and a headache began to throb in his skull. The boy groaned, "What is going on?"<p>

Like his questioned had summoned his brothers, Grayson and Drake came running over. It took another minute to process, but Damian understood afterwards that he was in the cave and lying on a cot. His uniform was still on; he couldn't have been unconscious for long. Grayson swiftly came to his side and put a hand on his shoulder, as if Damian would fall over without his support. What an ignorant thought; Damian felt that he was perfectly capable of sitting up on his own. His eldest brother said, "You were starting to worry us, Damian."

Indeed, a line of anxiety was creased between Grayson's eyebrows. Damian, customary to his personality, brushed off the hand from his shoulder and fixed his gaze on the older man. "Don't be ridiculous. I am hardly even scratched."

"You took a hard fall," Drake noted, and there was real concern in his voice as well. Though, Damian noticed, it didn't seem to be completely directed at him.

"Not hard enough to do any serious damage, thankfully," Grayson replied, "How are you feeling?"

Damian ignored the comment and sent a glare at the man. "How did you find me?"

"We had help," Drake replied, dodging the question. His tone was fleeting, shoving aside any questioning of 'how' or 'why' that could be asked.

That only sent Damian into a fit of aggravation. Grinding his teeth, he said sharply. "I wish that this household knew better than to follow after me. There are things that I must handle on my own, and I cannot be treated like a child!"

"If it weren't for us, well, you'd be dead." Todd strode forwards, hands in loose fists at his sides. Though his eyes were masked, he seemed to be watching Damian with a curious gaze. The current Robin wondered if the older man expected him to spring forward and attack out of the blue. "Well, maybe not dead. I don't think that's Talia's intent."

Todd gave a short nod towards his other two brothers. "Just be glad they care enough to try and search for you. Luckily I was in a generous mood to share what I knew."

If it was a bluff, which Damian expected, no one called him out on it. Damian's gaze swept across the room, his eyebrows furrowing together. There was something wrong in the cave; the atmosphere wasn't right. Something-someone was missing; an absence he couldn't ignore. Just like the shadows that kind the cave, shielding its secrets from eyes that dared to pry. Damian's eyes widened and he rewound his thoughts.

Shadows.

"Ara!" He said it so suddenly that it caused his brothers to start in surprise. Damian stood up in the bed, ignoring as Grayson tugged on his arms to try and pull him back down. There was no sign of the small girl; only his brothers were present.

"Damian, sit down," Grayson ordered, using his voice that was often compared to being his impression of Batman. Darker, more commanding than he ever used on…well anyone. In other circumstances it would have gotten Damian's attention.

This time, the younger boy brushed off the command and set his piercing eyes on Grayson. "Where is she?"

There was a pause in the air; a single moment of hesitance that alerted the boy to impending bad news. Grayson's darkened expression fell into a sigh, and he released his youngest brother. "They took her. She was gone by the time we reached the ship."

"Where?" Damian grit his teeth, clenching his hands so tightly that they shook. This could not be happening; he could not have failed. Because of him, it had to be his fault, Ara had been taken. His mother was sure to pass her onto her own parents. The Silent Hand would know she disobeyed, and then she'd be punished. Thinking about her fate made his stomach churn in fear and anger at himself.

"We don't know," Drake answered, his expression tight with worry. It looked like if another mistake was made his face would shatter like glass.

"Another ship," Damian blurted out, his mind racing. "My mother is supposedly aboard her own, intending to take me back home."

"And you know this how?" Todd asked, his words verbally trapping Damian in a corner.

With an impatient sigh that turned into half a growl, Damian did his best to explain the situation. It was hard to stay calm with the constant interruptions, but he held onto his patience. A single sharp glare silenced Drake from asking any further questions, and Damian finished his explanation with, "But it must have been a trap."

"Talia wants leverage," Todd said, his fingers tracing over the gun at his side thoughtfully. "She needs a reason for you to return to her."

Drake rested his chin on his hand, striking a classic thinking pose. "We can't take on Talia. It would cause too much trouble. There has to be another way."

"The only way for peace is if I return to my mother's side." Damian shook his head, "She will not take kindly to attack."

Grayson gave the youngest boy a stern look. "We are not handing you over to Talia. That's out of the question."

"You have no choice, Grayson." Damian replied, his jaw tight. "I have a plan, and I need all of you to go along with it."

"Care to let us in on it?" Todd asked, and it wasn't much of a suggestion. The man seemed to make it clear that no matter what, it was the older siblings that had the power. Damian had no choice but to explain or else they would hold him back for sure. Now was not the time to be dancing around issues; he couldn't play that game.

He opened his mouth to reluctantly reply when the sound of an engine cut him off. All heads turned towards the source, hearing the rumble grow louder and closer. Drake said, not to anyone specifically, "He has incredible timing."

"Got that right," Grayson agreed, and looked over to his youngest brother, "Sorry, Damian. Better fess up."

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><p>Bruce had mixed emotions about his return to the cave. Relief because his sons were all alive and just a little battered and bruised; that was completely normal. He was surprised to find Jason had come to the mansion but didn't say anything about it; he was glad of course. Everyone was together, and that would have made the Bat truly okay with the situation in another time. But there was one thing missing, one regret that hung in the room; Ara was gone.<p>

He'd listened to explanations from his sons patiently, keeping up his calm demeanor. There wasn't even an ounce of him that wanted to tell Damian he was wrong for going off on his own; the distressed expressions they all wore was enough to have Bruce stay quiet on the subject. Instead of provoking anything, he said that they would find the ship and rescue the girl. That hadn't made anyone less anxious, but that was to be expected.

And thankfully he was Batman, otherwise Bruce never would have found the ship. It took some searching over surveillance and reviewing some of the tips he'd gotten over the last few weeks; leads to Talia's presence had actually been there all along. Combined with the information that Jason willingly handed over from his own sources, they were able to guesstimate the location of the ship; of course not docked on land but at sea.

"Will we be able to make it there in time?" Dick asked, putting his mask back on. Bruce himself hadn't bothered to even remove his cowl once he arrived home.

"If we go now," he answered his son and turned towards them all. Jason was ready, red helmet on and waiting. Bruce hadn't asked why he was coming, but there was no doubt that Jason cared about his youngest brother to some degree though they weren't very close. Tim was loading the coordinates that they had found so that he could have them, and Damian was standing with his arms crossed. If Bruce didn't know better, he would have thought that his son was completely confident. But there was that air to him that told the father that he knew better; there was worry behind the façade.

"They're sure to be moving," Tim said, looking at them all. "Talia is probably headed back home to draw Damian to her."

"My mother is correct," Damian said. "I will follow her."

"Are you sure this will work, Damian?" Bruce asked. He was leery of this plan and had his doubts, but it was best to avoid a violent confrontation with Talia. Especially since she held Ara as a hostage and essentially bounty; they couldn't afford to turn to fighting her.

Damian shook his head, "I must try. It is the only option that I wish to go with."

Bruce hesitated; there was so much that he wanted to add in but the words wouldn't come. All he could do was have faith in his son and back him up as much as he could. "Alright. You have to be careful."

"I will," he answered and then added quietly, "I realize now just how careful I must be."

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><p>The room in the ship was dark, but that didn't bother Ara. Neither did the sound of the waves hitting the sides of the vessel or the sensation of slight rocking that she felt when she closed her eyes. Nothing of her surroundings could make her flinch. The idea that she had failed, however, was enough to make her hang her head. She was not upset for failing her parents, but she had put Damian in a horrible position and ended up captured as well. It was nothing to be proud of.<p>

A creak made her raise her head, and light spilled into her room as a figure entered. Currently the young girl resided in a room mostly used for storage; there were crates stacked all throughout the dank space and she was seated on the floor. Ara's heart skipped once in her chest and she moved onto her feet as calmly as possible. "Lady Talia."

"Ara," Talia replied, and the young girl was shocked to find not a trace of contempt in the woman's voice. "I am sorry that it has had to come to this."

In respect, Ara bowed her head, unable to ignore the nervousness in the pit of her stomach. "I disobeyed you, my Lady. It must be this way."

"Batman has his way of changing others," Talia said, her voice wistful. It sounded like she was charmed, but Ara didn't dare to look up to see her expression. "I expected that this would happen."

"I will accept my punishment," Ara said, forcing herself to be confident while fear swept through her veins at the thought.

Talia replied, "I haven't yet told the Silent Hand, Ara."

In surprise the young girl raised her head, eyes wide. The woman smiled at her, no ice in the expression but no warmth either. "You…you haven't?"

"I do not wish to," Talia replied, closing her eyes a moment. Ara wondered if she was envisioning her own son and having to punish him. She had no doubt that the mother did indeed love her child in some way; it was a complicated relationship. Talia opened her eyes and said, "I will keep it secret, for now."

"Will you ever tell them?" Ara straightened completely, forgetting that she shouldn't be so direct. That was disrespectful; she should have more manners towards the woman.

But Talia didn't even bat an eye. "That depends on the actions of my son."

Ara eyed her suspiciously and then asked softly, "Don't you know what he'll do?"

"No," the woman answered, and a flash of worry crossed her face. "His father has changed him. I no longer know the child that I raised."

Ara watched as Talia looked to her, voice strong. "I do not know what all will occur, but I do know one thing. Damian will come. Like his father, he always will."


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: It has been a long while since I've updated, but it's refreshing to be able to write this story again. Since it is almost over I will do my best to have another chapter up soon. I hate keeping you all waiting! I still hope that you enjoy this chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own DC Comics.**

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><p>Maybe it was just Damian's impatience, but he felt no need for the cover that stealth provided. His brothers and father insisted on playing it safe, opting for an attempt to board the ship without being seen or detected. While the ten year old understood their way of thinking, he found it pointless. No doubt his mother expected them at any moment; she'd be prepared and waiting for them no matter when they came. He had kept his opinions to himself however, knowing that he was lucky they were even allowing him to go through with his secretive plan.<p>

He also knew how badly he was worrying the other heroes. As they had sped out to sea on their own boat, Damian had refused to wear a com. The device would interfere with what he was trying to achieve, he'd argued. His father had looked disapproving, but relented hesitantly. Grayson paced the deck, glancing at the young Robin once in a while. Though his back was turned, Damian could feel the eyes boring into him, and chose to ignore it. He could not be distracted, and nothing that they could do or say would make him think otherwise.

"I would bother you about this," Drake said as he came up beside his brother. "But I know that whatever it is that you're planning, it's going to work."

Damian sniffed, keeping his masked eyes on the water. "Either the world is ending or you're attempts at sarcasm are failing."

"Talia is your mother," Drake continued, causing Damian to give him a sideways glance. "You know her well. So whatever trick is up your sleeve, it'll probably work."

For a long moment, Damian said nothing. Then he looked fully to his brother. It was kind of obvious that he was relying on the ten year old to bring Ara back. If he were able to see past he mask, Damian was sure he'd be able to see the unease in his older brother's eyes. Yet he also couldn't push away the feeling that he had as Drake watched him; he trusted Damian. Perhaps he was the only person through this whole ordeal who ever really had. "Thank you, Drake."

The older boy grinned, "No problem. Want to say that again so I can be sure that I heard that right?"

"Do not be an even greater fool," Damian said, smirking, "You are still incompetent."

"And you're still a pain in my ass," Drake said promisingly, though with a smile.

"How adorable, the two little birds are getting along." Todd came up to them and pointed ahead. "We're almost there."

They all looked where he was pointing and saw it in the distance; a dark ship sailing on the choppy water. Damian felt his resolve harden, and uncrossed his arms to ball his hands into fists. He could sense both Grayson and his father coming up behind him; their boat most likely set to the coordinates. Damian turned and faced his family, gaze falling over each of them. "Once we're on board, I am going in alone. None of you are to follow me. There will be guards, so deal with them."

"And then what?" Grayson asked, his expression like stone. "We wait for something to happen?"

"Find Ara," Damian replied. "You will get to her before me."

Grayson sighed, "I still don't like this. But…we're trusting you Damian."

Todd motioned to him, "Don't screw up, kid."

Damian looked to his father, who stood silently. The two locked eyes, and his father said, "I know you'll do the right thing."

Normally Damian might have stopped to consider whether or not it was a lie. But this time he allowed himself to believe his father without a doubt. It was time to stop denying his family; he belonged with them. And after today, if everything went as he hoped, he would be sure to open up to the idea more than ever before.

He was ready to be a Wayne.

* * *

><p>The ascent onto the ship deck went smoother than Damian had expected. In the back of his mind he had assumed that the moment they made contact with the ship they would be overwhelmed by assassins. That wasn't the case, luckily. Their feet touched down on the deck, and each masked figure looked around slowly, waiting for an ambush. Within the first ten seconds of their arrival, they had yet to meet resistance. Damian wasn't convinced that they had gone unnoticed.<p>

He took a few steps forwards, away from his family, and stood tall. He didn't move, but his eyes searched around behind his mask. Loudly he called, "I know you're here! Come out and face me, cowards!"

If that was the invitation everyone had been waiting on, they accepted it. The assassins leapt out, in the same manner that they had upon the other ship. This time though, Damian was prepared. He dove straight in, sword unsheathed, and forced his way through the blockade of assassins. They seemed to be intent on stopping him; Damian realized that as they attempted to pin him to the deck or restrain his limbs. It wasn't going to happen, however. The young Robin grabbed a hold of a wrist that came reaching for him and flipped the assassin over. It caused the man to crash into others rushing at the ten year old, and Damian grinned.

But his victory was short lived; the assassins were surrounding him yet again. A red and black blur knocked out several of the men, and then Red Robin was forced to pay attention to those coming his way. He was replaced by Nightwing, who fell into step beside Damian. The young Robin smirked and forced a few assassins to their feet, catching them off guard with a few quick and powerful hits. Nightwing ducked and then landed a powerful kick into the assassin's abdomen, sending him crashing into the side of the deck. Damian rushed through, gaining a few feet of space before he was once more surrounded.

A dark figure came beside him, and at first Damian was sure it was Nightwing. Then he heard the rustling of a cape as the man landed beside him, and Damian repressed the urge to grin. He fought back to back with his father until they both turned towards the same target, Batman lunging forwards. Damian did as well and then kept going, his father shielding him from anyone who tried to come up behind the ten year old. As assassins came at him there was the sound of gunshots, and then Todd was at his side. He lowered his gun slightly and said, "Good luck, kid. Don't expect me to come to the rescue if you get caught."

"It won't be needed," Damian assured him. He charged through the opening that Todd had created and bolted down into the ship.

Truly, he had no real guess as to where he needed to go. He could search every part of the ship, but there wasn't enough time to do so. Damian just went with his instincts and moved deeper into the vessel, noting that there weren't any guards the way that he was going. They must all be either on deck or stationed to watch Ara. That just proved to him that he was going in the right direction. And sure enough, as he kicked down the door at the end of the hall, he found her.

The room was most likely supposed to have been a dining room, but it had been converted into one for planning and plotting. Tables stretched among the large space, maps on them and taped across the walls. There were boxes and crates containing who-knows-what, and weapons were scattered on the floor and propped against chairs. And standing in the center of the room was a woman with long brown hair and piercing green eyes. She smiled, with more warmth than Damian could ever remember seeing; it may have been the first time she had ever really smiled at him. "Hello, my child."

"Hello, mother," Damian replied. He was very aware that he was wearing his Robin uniform and standing in the middle of everything he left behind. His mother was wearing her usual black, guns holstered at her sides. But she was exactly how he remembered her; just as his life as an assassin would be the same if he returned. It was like someone had taken a picture of his past and he had stepped back into it.

Talia made no move towards him, but looked her son over. Damian could feel her eyes tracing every part of his uniform, taking in his appearance. She said, almost softly, "You have grown…in many different ways."

"I am no longer the child that you left behind, Mother," Damian said, his voice echoing in the room. "I've come to learn more about myself than I ever knew."

"I see," Talia answered, sounding almost sad. Her eyes were bright, her fingers twitching slightly at her sides. Damian could feel the urge of battle sweeping over both of them. "And what will you choose to do now, Damian?"

"Something that I was never taught," Damian replied.

He dropped his weapon to the floor.

* * *

><p>Nightwing had managed to make his way down into the ship shortly after Damian. He'd felt guilty leaving the rest of his family to deal with the assassins, but he knew that they could handle it. The only task he could focus on was finding a dangerous little girl being held captive somewhere in the vessel. It wasn't so hard to figure out; whenever he crossed paths with more guards he figured that he was headed in the right direction. While fighting in the close quarters of the halls wasn't easy, he somehow made it down to the cargo section of the ship.<p>

That was when the real storm hit, assassin after assassin coming at the hero. Nightwing was forced against the wall, but grit his teeth and pushed through. He slammed his fist into the men that tried to overpower him, knocking them out as swiftly as possible. As he came upon a door, heavily guarded, he knew he had come to the right place. The assassins jumped at him, an arm wrapped around his neck. Nightwing slammed him back against the wall and the grip loosened, and the hero was able to shake off his enemy.

More came at him, but Nightwing was more alert than ever. He kicked and punched, using other assassins to knock out the others, blocking their hits until he could get a well aimed one. Once the fighting stopped he went for the door, finding it locked. Annoyance crept into him; he was really sick of all the obstacles. With one hard kick he had broken the lock on the door and forced it open, and he cautiously went inside.

It was definitely a storage room, used in usual circumstances to carry cargo. There were boxes piled high, but other than that he couldn't see anything. The room was dark with no light except for what spilled in from the open doorway. Nightwing looked around, and too late he heard movement from behind. Three assassins came from the darkness, grabbing a hold of him. He was able to shove two off and then fought the other, turning his attention back just in time as another tried to restrain him.

He whipped around just in time to see the other as he moved to attack, and Nightwing kicked the other to the floor and tried to regain his footing in time. A shadow fell from a pillar of high stacked crates, landing on the assassin. The man crumpled to the ground and the shadow leapt off and touched down on the ground in a crouched position. Light cast over her from the doorway, and Nightwing saw her dark blue eyes go from surprised to slightly frustrated.

"You," Ara said to him, "are the last person I would have bet on coming here."


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: It's hard to believe that this story is coming to a close. I've enjoyed every moment I spent on it, and I hope that this chapter is fulfilling for you also. There is still one more chapter left to go, so I hope to see you all there :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own DC Comics.**

* * *

><p>Should he have considered her to be ungrateful? Rude? Inconsiderate? Maybe so, Nightwing mused, but in all honesty the hero knew that he had it coming. By the way he had treated her the whole time she'd been in Gotham, he shouldn't have been expecting a very warm welcome; he really hadn't been. Not like he had intended to be the sole person to come to her rescue either. He rolled back his shoulder, feeling a bruise forming underneath his uniform. "You and me both."<p>

He took in her appearance as Ara remained crouched on the floor. Her clothes and hair were damp; he guessed that she'd been thrown into the water when Talia's assassins had captured her. There was ferocity in her eyes that he hadn't seen before, as if she were expecting someone to strike her any second. Probably, Nightwing guessed, she was thinking that he would try something like that. But he admittedly didn't feel as threatened by her as he had before. Those feelings had faded away, and now he felt like he needed to make it up to the girl.

Damn Tim for always being right.

Nightwing ran a hand through his hair, "Alright, as unconvincing as this is going to sound, I'm not here to hurt you."

Ara eyed him suspiciously, an eyebrow quirking upwards. "This is your chance to be rid of me. Why not take it?"

"That wouldn't be very fair," Nightwing told her, gesturing to the fallen men around him. "These guys were here first. But if I really wanted you gone, I wouldn't have come here."

"You came for Damian's sake," Ara replied sharply, "not mine."

"He would have been miserable for the rest of his life if he hadn't gone after Talia," Nightwing agreed, and then crouched down so that he was as level as he could be with her. He suspected that she might move further away, but she stayed still and watched his every movement. "But I didn't have to go along. I know I've been against you this whole time, but I'm putting it behind me."

Ara met his eyes, remaining so still that it was just about unnerving. Her dark blue gaze stared into his masked one, holding more intensity than he'd ever seen from the girl. "Is this a suggestion that I put my trust into the man whose entire goal has been to persecute me from the start?"

At that he involuntarily winced, "Yeah, I know. It's ridiculous and crazy. But in order for us to get off this ship, that's what I am asking."

He stood up and looked down at her for a moment, and then outstretched his hand to her. "Whatever you choose to think about me afterwards is your choice. But for now, give me one chance to get us out of here."

For the longest moment, Ara stared up at him. He was sure that she was either going to refuse, or leap at him with a knife, which he deserved. All he could hear was the waves hitting off the side of the ship, feel the slight rocking as it sailed. They may as well have been frozen in time. And then time moved forwards again as Ara's stony expression broke into a smirk, "You are a horribly complicated man, Nightwing."

Nightwing barked a laugh, "Have you met Red Hood?"

"Yes, and I see the resemblance," Ara answered, still smirking. Then she reached out and took a hold of his hand and pulled herself up and onto her feet.

He grinned at her, "Let's go find my stubborn little brother."

* * *

><p>Talia watched his sword clatter to the floor, the sound like shattering glass in the quiet of the room. Damian made no move to pick it up or to pull any other weapons out. When his mother's eyes moved to his face again, their gleam full of question and confusion, Damian told her clearly, "I will not fight you."<p>

Her expression flickered, emotions arriving on her features and leaving too quickly for Damian to decipher. At least he was able to tell that she was conflicted. Talia asked him, curiously, "And what if I strike? Will you stand there motionless and let me harm you?"

"That isn't what this is about." Damian said confidently, and pointed at his mother. "I don't believe that my mother would purposely hurt me when she has done everything to keep me safe. This is not about whether or not I will fight. You want something from me."

"Come home," Talia said, and he could see the sadness in her eyes that disappeared so swiftly he easily could have imagined it. "My child, Gotham is not where your destiny lies."

"I'm an Al Ghul," Damian admitted, closing his eyes a moment. "I am the heir to the League of Assassins, grandson of the Demon's Head, Ra's Al Ghul. I am a trained killer, a dangerous weapon."

When he opened his eyes, Talia was watching him as if she knew what was coming next. Her guarded expression didn't stop him from speaking, and he kept his eyes locked on her. "But I am also a Wayne. I am the son of the World's Greatest Detective. And I _am _Robin. Mother, when I was brought to Gotham it was you who decided that I should meet my father. This is the result of your actions."

"In my heart I knew that once I left everything would be out of my hands," Talia said, walking towards Damian. "I accepted that nothing would be the same. But I didn't expect this fast of a transformation…"

She stopped in front of Damian and reached out, touching his face with a motherly action that the boy had rarely witnessed before. Her green eyes searched his, then the rest of his facial features. "My Beloved is indeed a miracle worker. You are no longer the boy that I raised from a helpless newborn to an independent young son."

Despite his hardened resolve, a lump formed in Damian's throat. He willed that he wouldn't show his emotions and forced his gaze to remain steady, unbreakable from Talia's. His mother had praised him before, but the words had never meant anything to him. Before Gotham even existed to him and all he knew was the League of Assassins, he felt that he deserved praise and compliments. But now he saw just how much it meant to hear from his mother those words and to know her hidden meaning;_ I am proud of you._

She would never be able to say that aloud. Talia was the opposite of Batman, the force that he fought against. No matter where her true feelings lied, she could never change over. She could never tell Damian if he was doing the right thing; anything that was not her view was wrong. But he knew, perhaps he had known for a while, that he was doing what was right. He kept his eyes on his mother's face and spoke, soft but strongly, "I have chosen to follow the path my father has shown me. I cannot return home nor do what you bid me, or follow the lessons that were instilled in my conscience. Not now; not ever. But there are certain lessons that you have taught me which I will always remember."

Damian raised his head, and Talia pulled her hand away. "There is nothing more that you can teach me, Mother. But Father has much for me to learn."

There was a small span of silence before Talia spoke, not pleadingly, but with slight insistence, "I have come to save you, Damian. If I cannot bring home my child now, then there will never be another chance for mercy."

_Grandfather would never allow it. _Damian knew the truth, but kept quiet. His mother didn't really want to cause him harm, and she was doing this to try and save him. Saving in this form, however, was not needed. The only kind that he needed was the opportunity to change his ways. Gotham and his father provided him that. Damian shook his head, "I will not go. I am not sorry for my choice, no matter what the consequences."

He saw it, in the slight drop of her shoulders, in the shred of tension that left her face, that she was relieved. But there was new anxiety in her now, a maternal instinct of the need to protect. Yet she played the part of disapproving parent, "I do not want to take you back if you will not be loyal to me. In time, my child, you will see that you are an Al Ghul at heart; that choosing to stay with Batman is a mistake. And when you wish to return to my side, it will not be without punishment."

"I understand," Damian replied, and he saw the shadow of a smile on Talia's face.

She bent down and picked up Damian's sword and sheathed it for him. Then his mother placed her hands firmly on his shoulders and bent to his height, looking at him sternly. "Listen to me, Damian. You must never come near the Al Ghuls again. You will take Ara and your family and leave, and hope that you do not encounter me in the future."

Pain latched around his heart, but he knew that Talia was right. There was no turning back now; he could never have the best of both worlds. "Yes, Mother. No matter what anyone may say…I do not hate you."

And for the briefest moment Talia smiled and wrapped her arms around Damian. He focused on the embrace and listened to her whisper in his ear, "You will grow into a fine young man, my son."

As quick as she had brought him into her arms she pulled away, giving him a slight shove backwards. Her features had turned cold, but her eyes held a warmth that Damian wanted to hang onto. Her icy and firm tone of voice snapped him out of his wanting. "Go, now."

Damian took a step back, his eyes still locked on his mother, freezing the image of her in his mind. Then he broke his gaze, snapping his head away from her and turned, running for the door. The urge to look back filled him, and he paused slightly in the doorway. But he knew better; it was a rule that Talia had made him learn as a young boy; never look back. Life moved on, and he would move on without his mother.

He ran out and left her behind, blinking out the tears that formed in his eyes.

* * *

><p>By the time he returned to the deck, most of the assassins had been taken out. He spotted his father first, fighting beside Hood; a rare instance that he was surprised to see. Then there was Red Robin, who appeared after knocking down a man in his way. Damian felt nervousness form a pit in his stomach until he saw Nightwing and Ara fighting side by side. He released a breath and then jumped into the fray, catching his father off guard. "Robin!"<p>

"We need to leave!" Damian shouted back, throwing an angry kick into the chest of one assassin, feeling ribs crack underneath his foot. He battled down the miserable emotions that threatened to rise up in him, restraining his desire to physically take out his unhappiness on every single assassin left standing.

He could hear another engine in the waters below; their boat arriving. Damian looked to Batman who gave a firm nod, and all the others followed their lead. They raced towards the edge of the ship and jumped, plummeting towards the waters below. At first Damian was shocked that he couldn't see the boat, but once he hit the water he realized what was going on. The boat had transformed into a submarine; leave it to Batman to always be prepared. They swam to the vessel as it rose to the surface and clambered inside, Damian gasping for air by the time he reached it.

Once they were all on board their new mode of transportation dove under the water yet again and sped off. Damian watched the underside of the boat disappear, and once it was gone he sunk into his seat in exhaustion. Turning his head, he saw Ara sitting beside him, and forced a smirk onto his face. "What trouble I go through for you, Reign."

"I would apologize if it weren't your job to come to others' aid," Ara answered, and her smirk quickly turned into a small smile. "Thank you."

She looked at all of the Bat family, "All of you."

"Just doing our job," Drake replied, putting a hand on her shoulder, but smiling nonetheless.

Todd grunted, frowning at his guns which had been soaked, "Yeah, sometimes."

Damian could see both Nightwing and Batman seeming to be pleased, and then turned his gaze to watch them move through the water. It was quiet for a long while after that, everyone drained of energy and not having anything to say. Once they put enough distance between themselves and the ship, the submarine moved towards the surface. It broke through and the glass cover came down, allowing fresh air for the passengers.

The sky had been painted over with the orange and gold of sunrise, not a trace of darkness to be seen. Damian turned his head, and he could see behind them on the horizon was the looming Gotham City. It was still a dark and dangerous place, cold and filled with violence. But Damian did not see it as foreign anymore. Instead, he felt comfort as his eyes set on the familiar shape of the buildings.

Somewhere in that city was a huge manor with a hundred rooms, with one to call his own. There was a dog who was loyal to him and a butler who was becoming more of a grandfather to him each day. Below the earth was a cave that housed their secrets, ones that Damian would gladly keep safe. More than any of that was the reality that he shared the manor with people he was happy to call his family.

"Ready, Damian?" Batman asked in a gentle tone.

"Yes, Father," Damian replied, "Let's go home."


End file.
